Junkie - Season One
by yodasbitch
Summary: Charlie Macey has never minded a little danger. Beginning of a series of stories following Breaking Bad Seasons 1-5 with my OC tossed into the mix.
1. Pilot

**Disclaimer: I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters! I only own my OC, Charlie Macey, and her side of the story.**

**A/N: The story may be a bit slow to start, because I want to establish my character into the story and get a good feel about how she'll fit in, and it should pick up pretty quickly from there. Enjoy! :)**

**'Pilot'**

"Charlie!"

The mess of long black hair groaned from her spot on the mattress, not adhering to the whispered shout of her name. Still impaired by the heroin in her system, her ability to react quickly to the situation at hand was hindered and causing complications for a certain Jesse Pinkman.

"Charlie!" He hissed again, shaking her awake and grabbing at her discarded clothing, tossing them onto the slowly waking girl. Emilio, his assistant cook, had assumed responsibility for the batch of crystal methamphetamine that was being produced downstairs, originally granting Jesse some alone time with his girlfriend. Unfortunately, the time had very recently been interrupted by a batch of D.E.A agents and a SWAT team breaking down their front door. It was no secret that if caught, all three would face class II felony charges, as well as up to five years in prison and thousands of dollars in fines. Jesse only had a matter of seconds before they discovered the hidden staircase, meaning that he had to get out of here as soon as humanly possible.

"Come on, baby," Jesse assisted the heavily influenced female up from the mattress and into her shirt. "We gotta bounce."

Charlie's 5'7, 100 lb frame was boosted out of the window and onto the roof, her boyfriend soon to follow. He jumped down from the terrace first, and gently coaxed the tiny girl to follow his lead. After a minute of hushed persistence, she followed, falling into his waiting arms with no problem at all. It seemed that they were going to be able to escape Emilio's estate without being caught by the police, but just as Jesse prepared to hop into his car, he locked eyes with a man sitting in one of the squad cars with a bulletproof vest on. He didn't seem like D.E.A – being that he looked fairly alarmed and hadn't radioed for help yet. The man stared back, mouthing the familiar student's names and opening his mouth as if to scream at the police inside the house. It was only safest to assume that they had already captured Emilio. This was already bad news enough; it meant that Jesse lost all of his equipment and cooking space.

Fearing the worst as he realized that the man sitting in the car was him and Charlie's old Chemistry teacher, Jesse raised a finger to his lips and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her towards his red Monte Carlo low rider. She stumbled, grabbing onto his t-shirt for support and unable to control the lolling of her head. More gentle words of encouragement followed as Jesse ushered the stoned female into the vehicle and jumped into the driver's seat. The car's engine burst to life and the two roared down the street, safer with each and every kilometer they put between themselves and the D.E.A.

Upon reaching the front door of Jesse's house and being ushered inside, Charlie stumbled towards the kitchen and promptly vomited in the sink. He followed behind her with great concern, pulling her greasy hair back and placing a hand on her forehead. Heroin and cardio was a big no-no, especially considering Charlie's portions were kid-sized bites at every meal. No matter the amount of coaxing or distractions that Jesse pulled on her, she barely managed to keep her system up and running. The only thing saving her was occasional caloric boost from the binges after her munchies acted up – Jesse only had the marijuana to thank for that. Endless scars littered her arms and legs, only covered by her colorful tattoos that seemed to go on forever. On her right arm, her sleeve displayed the ocean, a jungle and a beautiful skyline, topped with as many animals that could have possibly fit into the scene. Scriptures, quotes and symbols were printed across nearly every piece of her skin, save for several secret spots that she had dutifully informed her boyfriend that she was 'saving'.

Charlie retched one last time into the sink and slumped to the kitchen ground, beginning to sob. The meltdown from coming off of a traumatic experience on heroin could be very difficult – especially for someone who'd lost her virginity to rape while she had been under the influence.

"Hey hey hey - we're safe." He rested his chin on the top of her head and shut his eyes, praying to god that the man sitting in the car wouldn't call the police on him. Maybe he had taken pity on Charlie's condition; after all, if he had called the D.E.A on his ass the SWAT cars would have been here by now. It was clear that Charlie still couldn't fully understand him, but even in moments of total obscurity, she recognized the tone of his voice and his touch. It was the perfect example of trust.

**|:|**

The sun had been down for several hours in Albuquerque by the time Jesse worked up the nerve to emerge from his house. The dirty 2-story building had history to it; it had been his Aunt's before she had passed away, and in her will she had declared her wish to be Jesse's ownership of it. He had been more than happy to make the place home, but refused to do business inside of it. When Charlie had questioned him – sometimes she grew curious about the industry that she was so loyal of a customer to – he patiently explained: 'I don't shit where I eat.'

"Jesse?" A soft slurred voice drew his attention back into the room he was about to leave. Charlie had been sleeping off the effects of the heroin, something that she had been doing more and more recently. It was an expensive habit – one that was being dutifully paid off by her job at _Los Pollos Hermanos_ as a waitress. The low income wasn't raking in major dough, but if she had a good week it would contribute to the savings that they were scraping by on. Recently Jesse's dealing was bringing in more and more cash, which only meant more and more drugs.

"I'm here." He walked back towards the mattress where his girlfriend was nestled under the covers and knelt down on the floor, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "You want anything?"

She squeaked once and yawned, smacking her lips and cringing at the taste. "Po."

Jesse smiled, going to grab her beloved teddy bear at the foot of the mattress and burying it in her hands. "I'm gonna cover the car and then I'll getcha some water, 'kay?"

She made a small noise of recognition, and Jesse found the corners of his mouth turning upwards once again. He laid a final kiss on her forehead before proceeding out the door, bounding down the stairs and grabbing the blue tarp from the garage on the way to his driveway. Beginning at the front of the car, he unraveled the tarp until it covered the yellow New Mexico license plate, which revealed his identity as 'The Cap'n'. It was a stupid name that he and Emilio had come up with after he had placed his secret ingredient – chili powder – in one of their batches. Ratings had gone up in the streets, and Jesse decided to keep it. Besides, it made Charlie laugh when he referred to himself as 'Cap'n Cook'. And he loved the way that she laughed.

Jesse finished wrapping the car up, fully intent on fetching a glass of water for the girl that was plaguing his mind at the moment, when a noise distracted him. He recognized his gate being swung open and quickly grabbed a crowbar from behind his red Kawasaki GPX 750 R. Amidst the chilly September breeze, Jesse could hear faint footsteps heading towards him. This prompted him to raise his head, revealing himself to the trespasser whom was no other than Mr. White.

"Hey! Uh -" Mr. White rose his hands, spotting the crowbar in his former student's hands. "It's me – I'm alone."

Jesse remained close to the ground, putting a hand on his forehead in stress. "How'd you find me?"

"You're still in our filing system." Mr. White took several steps closer to Jesse, prompting the younger man to rise to his feet. "So your Aunt owns this place, right?"

"_I _own it."

After several more moments of nervous glances back and forth, Walter raised his hands again. "Look," He tried to reason with the obviously tense Jesse. "No ones looking for you."

"Why are you here?" Jesse retaliated, opening his arms in question and backing further away as the older man advanced towards him.

"I was curious," Walt replied truthfully. "Honestly I never expected you'd amount to much…but methamphetamine? I didn't picture that. There's a lot of money in it, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"No?" Mr. White wasn't buying it.

"Not a clue." Jesse kept his voice low and shook his head, fully prepared to deny until his former teacher left his property. Calling the police was out of question; if he wanted to get rid of this man he would have to either wait him out or kick his ass.

"Cap'n cook? That's not you?" Mr. White moved closer to the car, reaching for the blue tarp and lifting it to reveal the license plate. "Like I said, no one is looking for you."

"I don't know what you think you're doin' here Mr. White," Jesse began to get agitated, not understanding Mr. White's motives. "I mean, if you're plannin' on givin' me some bullshit about getting right with Jesus or something, turning myself in -"

"Not really." Mr. White shook his head.

"High school was a long time ago. You ain't 'Welcome Back, Kotter'," Jesse lifted the crowbar for emphasis. "So step off. No speeches."

"Short speech. You lost your partner today. What's-his-name, Emilio? Emilio's going to prison. The D.E.A. took your money, your lab. You got nothing. Square one. But you know the business, and I know the chemistry. I'm thinking. Maybe you and I…partner up?"

Mr. White left the question hanging in the air while Jesse stared at his former professor with incredulity, not believing his own ears. The silence seemed to last for several awkward moments, neither of them eager to end the pregnant pause.

"You…" Jesse cleared his throat, eyeing the man nervously. "You wanna cook crystal meth? With me?"

Upon Mr. White's nod of approval, a grin spread over Jesse's face. In no way shape or form had he ever imagined his old chemistry teacher to be the first to approach him fresh off of a crime scene and request to cook. The twenty four year old begins to reel in laughter, only sobering when he hears Mr. White's final words.

"Either that, or I turn you in."

That sobered him up quick.

After a quick exchange of phone numbers and addresses, Mr. White bid his new partner a good night and began to walk back towards the gate where he had come in from. Just as he was reaching for the handle, however, something seemed to come over him. He turned to see Jesse regarding him with a wary gaze – clearly he wanted to make sure that the man was gone before he receded back into the home.

"Jesse – your girlfriend…" Mr. White began.

"Charlie." Jesse corrected.

His partner nodded, remembering the sad stories that used to go around the staff room about the Macey family. "You're taking care of her, yes?"

"Why do you think I'm makin' sure you get outta here?" Jesse lifted his chin towards the older man, as if to challenge an attacker. "No one gets in the house."

Mr. White nodded and proceeded to his car, unable to get the image of Charlie's woozy and clearly under the influence facial expression out of his head. He was concerned; that was for dang sure. Charlie and Jesse had first met in freshman year of high school, and at that point Mr. White still remembered both of them as drug- addled teens coming from problematic households. They grew together, encouraged each other and nurtured themselves every step of the way. At one point, Walt remembered running into Jesse comforting Charlie out of a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. He had to hand it to the kid; he was good at dealing with hysterics, even when it was blatantly obvious that Charlie had been under the influence of methamphetamine for the past three days at the time. With a final sigh, Mr. White pulled out of the driveway and tried to forget about the two junkies – one of which he had just made a fairly heavy deal with.

Once he was sure that Mr. White was speeding down the street in the opposite direction, Jesse locked the gate and sped back into the kitchen, lighting a cigarette on the way. Charlie would most likely be asleep, but tomorrow morning she would need water. He filled a glass and carefully transported it upstairs, placing it at arm's length away from the mattress. He had learnt to place it at a certain distance from her after several of her nightmares had resulted in an injured hand. She had a habit of grabbing whatever she could when she was experiencing trauma – which meant every time Jesse felt a tug on his clothing something was wrong. After this many years together they had established a whole other language. Charlie reminded him of Fabienne from _Pulp Fiction_. Not that he was anything like Butch – in fact Charlie didn't look a thing like Fabienne. But their relationship mirrored the fictional pairs' directly. Just like Fabienne, Charlie was prepared to follow Jesse everywhere and remain loyal to him out of love. She never questioned his fast actions, only stopping to ask questions when the emergencies were over. It was true that home was where the heart was, because ever since she and Jesse had begun to see each other in high school they had been inseparable. Charlie had virtually no belongings; her mother had committed suicide at the age of 35 with no will or money, leaving Charlie to her abusive father who had kicked her out of the house as soon as she was 18. Jesse had pressured her for many years to phone the police before his untimely death, but when it was revealed that Mr. Macey overdosed on his Oxycotin there was no need to cling onto the past. Unfortunately, Charlie's brain didn't let go of things so easily. She was plagued by her anxiety, which Jesse had grown more and more used to every time she collapsed in the hallway from panic attacks or couldn't leave the house for days on end. He grew used to bringing her into the emergency ward when she cut too deep or wasn't waking up from a bad high. He was used to taking care of her; loving her. She clung to him like he was the only thing worth living for, and for several periods of time he sincerely was. There wasn't any other person in the world that Jesse would have wanted to spend his life with, and he knew Charlie felt the exact same way. So amidst all the drug chaos and strange police chases, nothing was going to ward off what they felt for each other. Which meant that cooking with Mr. White wasn't going to change anything between them – even if he was their former professor.

Content with where his current train of thought had ended, Jesse took a last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out on the ashtray sitting on the floor next to him. He pulled Charlie towards him, reveling in the way that her eyebrows knitted together and her body wrapped itself around him out of routine.

**|:|**

"He asked you to what?" Charlie frowned, sitting up next to her boyfriend who had just recited yesterday's events.

"Cook."

At first she said nothing, leaning over him to grab the pack of Parliaments sitting on the nightstand along with a lighter. He accepted the stick she offered, taking the orange bic from her hands and lighting both of their smokes. He traced her tattoos and watched her inhale lazily, blowing the smoke out of her nose.

"You said the D.E.A got Emilio?"

Jesse nodded, once again bringing a stressed hand to his face. He had been trying to avoid the pessimistic train of thought but this bust meant that all of his equipment had been stolen, and Mr. White really _was _his last resort.

"And you said Mr. White threatened to turn you in?" Charlie's eyes narrowed, watching Jesse nod his head as she tried to pick up the final bits and pieces of the story. She had a bad feeling about this Chemistry teacher-turned-criminal. It was suspicious enough that he had been at the lab bust with the D.E.A, but it was even more suspicious that he had followed Jesse home and offered to do business with his former student. Unless he had some ulterior motive, this had the D.E.A's paws all over it.

"But why does _Mr. White _want to cook meth?" Charlie made a face, looking up at Jesse with confusion in her eyes and voicing her concern over whether or not he was undercover.

"Beats me." Jesse shrugged, flicking bits of ash into the tray. Charlie followed, her jet-black nails created a stark contrast between the white of the cancer stick.

"And you have to meet him today?"

"Yeah," Jesse checked his watch and frowned. "Should be here in an hour. You feelin' okay?"

"Mmmgh."

**|:|**

One hour later, Charlie brought out two beers for her boyfriend and their old Chemistry teacher, not wanting to make him feel unwelcome in their home. She had been fully intent on greeting the fifty year old as soon as his car pulled into their driveway, but Jesse shifted her inside quickly and begged her to stay put. She gave in eventually, understanding his concerns and how he didn't like to involve her in deals. However her curiosity was peaked when she heard them discussing in the garage, and she paused _Half Life 2 _for Xbox to creep near the entrance to the garage.

"-this is my house," She heard Jesse's distinct voice from the other side of the door. "Kay? I don't shit where I eat. Nothing touches Charlie."

"Then where are we going to work?" A familiar voice, what must have been Mr. White, reached Charlie's ears. A smile perked up on her face and she placed a hand on the doorknob.

"You tell me. This is your deal, man. You wanna smoke it up, smoke it up at your house." Charlie heard nothing over a couple beats of silence. "Nah. I didn't think so. Oh, well."

"What if we rented a self-storage place? One of those little orange garages? Worked out of there?" Mr. White proposed.

"Nah, they're onto that. They got dogs that sniff around." Her boyfriend sounded begrudged. "RV. That's what you want."

"What, like a Winnebago?" Mr. White sounded confused.

"I know a dude wants to sell his. He just goes camping with it - but a mobile meth lab'd be the bomb. You can drive way out in the boonies. Be all evasive."

At this, Charlie gently pushed the door open and peeked into the garage. At the sound of the door, both men turned and locked eyes with the tiny twenty three year old. Mr. White had always remembered her to be thin like a stick, but upon seeing her again after so much time had passed he found himself wondering if she had lost even more weight.

"Hey baby," Jesse stalked towards her and laid a kiss on her lips. Her eyes remained wide, like a deer in headlights. She had been excited to see her old teacher, but realized now that perhaps the feelings weren't going to be reciprocated. Her and Jesse hadn't exactly paid the most attention in class – and they had been known to hang around with the more disrespectful types in school and Mr. White had never taken a liking to them.

"Hi Charlie," Mr. White smiled and raised a hand towards her, trying to evade the awkwardness of the situation and at the same time let her know that bygones were bygones. She seemed to understand, because a small smile broke out across her face as she looked him up and down.

"Do you guys want pancakes?"

Jesse laughed, his blue eyes twinkling as her stared up at her. Although she ate next to nothing, Charlie could whip up an entire meal out of barely anything when she applied just the right amount of concentration. Their friends – namely Badger, Skinny Pete and Combo – were all very big fans of Charlie's large meals. Even Emilio had been treated to one of her Thanksgiving dinners at one point.

"I'm alright, thank you." Mr. White declined politely, staring at Jesse pointedly. "Is she coming with us to the bank?"

"I dunno – you gonna put on some pants?" Jesse eyed the girl's bare legs, and she bit her lip before nodding, quickly ducking out of sight and shutting the door. Walter shook his head and muttered quietly while staring down at his shoes, visibly uncomfortable.

"What?" Jesse challenged, daring him to make a comment. Mr. White simply offered a small smile before nodding his head in the direction of the door where Charlie had appeared again, wearing large sweats and a raggedy pair of converse. She stuffed a pack of cigarettes and a beaten up looking phone into her pocket. The Chemist noted that she was being swallowed in her massive clothes – in fact she was positively swimming in them. What was obviously Jesse's sweater and sweats seemed like five times her size, and even with all the extra layers she was still shaking like a leaf when they stepped out into the cold September air. Agreeing to meet at the local bank, Mr. White climbed into his own car and led the way towards the upper part of town. It was no surprise to him that the two were living together – what was more surprising was that they weren't married. He had always taken those two to be the brashest kids around; hell, he could safely say he was shocked that Charlie wasn't pregnant. But perhaps they had grown some sense in the short span of time between now and high school – perhaps they had come to their senses about some things.

Both cars pulled up beside each other in the bank's parking lot minutes later, but only Mr. White removed himself from the vehicle and proceeded inside the large building. Ever since he had started speaking with Pinkman, Walter found himself increasingly aware of the amount of security inside stores, financial buildings and even homes. It looked like the criminal life was already starting to affect him.

"This is barely seven grand," Jesse scoffed, flopping the envelope around in his hands once Walt had retrieved the money. "My guy wants eighty five."

"This is all the money I have in the world." Mr. White held onto Jesse's car window and frowned. "You're a drug dealer; negotiate."

"You are NOT how I remember you from class – I mean, like," Jesse smiled and shook his head, still in disbelief that he was going into the meth business with his old chem teacher. "Not at all."

Charlie nodded her head in agreement, biting at her knuckles. It was a nervous habit that she had developed after her father had passed away; he had done the same thing when he was feeling upset or anxious about something. The biting had done serious damage to her skin; her knuckles were constantly red and covered in tiny teeth marks – as if a baby had taken to chewing them all night long.

"I gotta go." Mr. White had obviously finished dealing with Jesse and began to move away from the red vehicle.

"Wait, wait! Hold on," Jesse pulled Charlie's hand away from her mouth absent mindedly, yet another routine that had become habit for them. "Tell me why you're doin' this. Seriously."

"Why do you do it?" Mr. White shot back, looking uncertainly between the two in the car.

"Money, mainly," Jesse rested a hand on the steering wheel, looking to his right and catching Charlie's eye. "For her."

"There ya go." Mr. White began to back away again, seeing the large grin on Charlie's face and a small light spark in her dim eyes.

"Nah, come on!" Jesse shot back, persistent and refusing to believe that Mr. White was only in this for the money. "Nah. Come on, man! Some straight like you, giant stick up his ass…all a sudden at age, what, sixty? He's just gonna break bad?"

"I'm fifty."

"It's weird, is all, okay?" Jesse tried to explain. "It doesn't compute. Listen - if you're like…crazy or something - if you've gone crazy, or depressed." Mr. White shot him a glare. "I'm just saying. That's something I need to know about. That affects me."

Mr. White seemed to consider how to respond for a small beat of silence. "I am…awake." He finally admitted.

"What?"

"Buy the RV." He abandoned the conversations, pointing a solitary finger at Jesse before circling the car and approaching his own vehicle parked beside the Monte Carlo. "We start tomorrow."

Both vehicles started at the same time, and a zoned-out Charlie came to her senses when Mr. White started to back out beside them. She quickly stuck her head out the window, hood pulled halfway over her forehead.

"By Mr. White! Have a nice day!" She waved, grinning and trying to seem as amicable as possible. Walter's stare was puzzled and almost harsh for a couple of seconds before he haphazardly waved back and shot out of the parking lot, as if his car was afraid of being in the same parking space as the Monte Carlo. It was clear that Charlie wasn't in the best mental state – hell, she had barely noticed him for the better half of ten minutes and all of a sudden was waving like a maniac - but even Mr. White wasn't blind enough to see that Jesse took care of the girl. They would survive.

**|:|**

After two days of straight partying with half of Mr. White's cash, a brown RV was purchased from Combo.

**|:|**

"Baby you know the drill; I won't be home for awhile, yeah?"

A still half-asleep Charlie nodded, yawning and leaning on window of their car. This was how his cooks usually went; he would drive her to work in the morning and she would bus back home when her shift ended, usually depending on what hours had been texted to her from her boss, Gustavo Fring. He was a pointed, pleasant man that had sympathized with her financial situation during her job interview and offered her a job on the spot.

"You got the keys?" Her boyfriend checked off all the essentials as they neared the restaurant where her shift would be starting in seven minutes.

"Yup."

"Phone?"

"Yup."

"Cash?"

"Yup."

"Food?"

Charlie heaved a sigh. "Yup."

Jesse nodded once and pulled into the _Los Pollos _parking lot, music blaring. Charlie hopped out of the car, skipping over to the driver's side to give Jesse one last kiss for good luck before he drove off into the distance, bass still booming. She felt a strange sense of pride swell inside of her chest at the fact that the man in that car was hers; they belonged to each other and came as a packaged pair. She was proud of the fact that he could provide for her and could satisfy every corner of the lifestyle she wanted – proud that she had found 'the one' while she was still young.

**|:|**

Jesse came home late, and only left a small note with a heart on it, explaining that he had business today as well. Charlie merely shrugged and climbed into bed alone, although even her beloved teddy bear Po and a cigarette couldn't quell the amount of nerves in her stomach. Her stomach always bothered her when Jesse was gone for more than a day.

**|:|**

There was the sound of keys in the lock, and Charlie looked up from the kitchen island where she had been cleaning off her share of Kush. Jesse couldn't have been happier to see the love of his life sitting Indian-style ripping bong hits in that very instant, and he was fairly certain that after two days of minimal contact she was extremely happy to see him as well.

"Oh! Oh my god! Your face!" Her face dropped in alarm, and she carefully set aside the bong to hop off the island. She clutched at him desperately, and he reveled in her tiny gasps, leaning on the island as she dashed around the kitchen trying to find the first aid kit.

"Are we in danger?" Charlie began to question, finding the bright yellow box and fetching a bag of peas for his swollen eye. Although his injuries were bothering him and he wanted nothing more than to take a long hot shower at that very moment, Jesse couldn't stop smiling. Again, he was reminded of Fabienne from _Pulp Fiction_. Just like Fabienne, Charlie was ready to go; ready to follow Jesse to the ends of the world and listen to him and love him because he cared.

"I don't think so," He grinned like a maniac, pulling her close as she tried to disinfect his cuts. "But we do have a bit of a situation in the RV."


	2. Cat's in the Bag

**'Cats in the Bag...'**

"So two bodies?" Charlie placed her hands on her hips, frowning in disapproval at the large vehicle parked in their driveway. "Emilio and Krazy-8?"

"Yup." He had explained to her the cook from yesterday – how Walter's 'product' had been clear as glass and how it had yielded unwanted attention from his former partner(s) who had somehow evaded prison. Even though Charlie was very familiar and comfortable with the dealing industry, Jesse was still very surprised that she had not shown any signs of panic or anger so far. Instead, her lips were pulled together in a tight frown, and her little fingers swung their car keys back and forth as she paced. After having explained to her again and emagain /emwhat had happened with Emilio and Krazy-8 the day before, he expected at least some sign of acute reaction and grew concerned when there was none. Even if both Charlie and Jesse had dealt seen some crazy things in there time, this took the cake and would have made any normal human being reel in terror.

"And you're home all day?" She questioned, placing a finger to her lip. At the moment, even _she _was surprised at the innocence that rolled off of her in waves. She was aware of the gravity of the situation in front of her; the two men's bodies mounted up to serious felony charges and life sentences.

"Yup." Jesse bounced on the balls of his feet, still expecting a sort of angry reaction. These sorts of situations always seemed to sort themselves out, and by now he had grown used to the surprises that Charlie threw at him, but the lack of retaliation from her part was beginning to worry him.

"Well," She grimaced up at her boyfriend sarcastically, sunlight hitting her directly in the eyes. "You did it; you get to clean it up."

"Yeah, I know." Jesse sighed, cautiously pecking her on the lips and wishing her a good day as she climbed into the car. "By the way, you got any concealer left?"

Charlie pursed her lips and thought for a brief second before reminding him of the bottle in the first drawer underneath the microwave. He kissed her several times again in apology before allowing her to back out of the driveway, still miffed about her 9-5 shifts at the diner on certain days. It wasn't that her boss was an unpleasant man – it was just that she had accepted 'all available times' when she checked off her time slots, which meant that whenever _Los Pollos _was short staffed, she was called in. Fortunately, neither Charlie nor Jesse had problems with strange work schedules. Neither of them also had a problem with treacherous situations. In fact they had grown accustomed to them for the better part of eleven years. The way Jesse saw it, as long as they were within each other's reach, they would consider themselves to be safe.

**|:|**

"Mr. White smoked a joint today."

"No kidding?" Charlie laughed, going to grab a glass of water from the fridge. It was 5:30 PM, and she had just recently returned from her last hour of waitressing. All day at work, she had been thinking of the bodies of the two men that resided in her home and searching for any clues of emotion inside herself; something that provided reassurance that she was still somewhat human. Unfortunately, her brain seemed to avoid any empathy or nerves on the subject at all, and her anxiety was much more concerned about sketchy customers and her next pay check more than anything else. For the life of her, Charlie couldn't understand the way her brain worked. Everything that a normal human being would feel panic towards she found herself giggling uncontrollably at, but the minute she had to get in line to talk to the teller at a bank she was suffering from a panic attack. Perhaps those strange patches in her emotional side explained how she could have possibly kept her mouth shut about the two murders her boyfriend was partially responsible for.

"Yeah," Jesse shot her a nervous look, distracting Charlie from her train of thought. "But uh…that's not the only thing."

His girlfriend raised a brow, plugging her phone into a charger on the wall. "Don't tell me you have a Drug Lord in the back of the Monte Carlo or something."

"Krazy 8's still alive – he's locked up in our basement." Jesse didn't laugh, seeming somber for the first time in days. Charlie froze, immediately tensing and sprinting to the tiny window in the living room that cast a sliver of light into the basement. Just like her boyfriend had claimed, the drug dealer was tied to a pole in the middle of the basement, bike lock around his neck. He seemed unconscious for the time being, and a bucket with toilet paper, water and a sandwich was laid around him.

"Oh my god – okay," Charlie retreated from the small grate and stepped back a couple feet, running into Jesse behind her. "This is -"

" -fine," Jesse finished for her. "It's – trust me…it's fine. Mr. White just has to kill him."

"He – he what?!" Charlie ran a hand through her hair and looked up at her significant other with concern. Dealing with already dead bodies was one thing, but taking a human life was in a completely different ballpark. "Here? How?!"

"Hydrofluoric acid or some shit," He explained, motioning towards to the two bottles that Mr. White had stolen from JP Wynne High sitting on the kitchen counter. "He's gonna do it tomorrow."

"Uh -" Charlie was still struggling to find words, seemingly wanting to say ten things all at once. "You can't just – oh god, this is wrong on so many levels."

"I know." The pair locked eyes.

Charlie made a noise of discontent and sunk to the floor, curling up into a ball. This happened frequently when she found herself in worrisome predicaments, and before she knew it her breath began to accelerate. Jesse, understanding that all this stress wasn't going to be good for her already suffering heart, plopped himself down beside her and slid her small frame into his cross legged position. Shifting himself so that the wall near the grate leading to the basement supported the pair, he began to whisper into her ear and stroked her hair, repeating the familiar routine that they had gone through for the past eleven years. The attacks happened less frequently now than they had before; her anxiety was wicked and rare in that retrospect; it showed its true ugly colours just when you thought you had gotten rid of the last speck of it.

It took Jesse mere minutes to calm a hectic Charlie down, breathing with her and smoothing circles into sensitive areas on her skin. It was no secret that sex usually helped her nerves afterwards. Even with the eating disorder, her libido had remained vigilant and refused to stop no matter what. So naturally, when her nerves were still frazzled and she was already seated on her boyfriend's lap, Jesse's natural instinct was to begin to pepper kisses over the sensitive areas of her neck. Within seconds clothing was being discarded from left to right and he was hoisting Charlie up by her tiny waist, now claiming her lips in a fury of lips, teeth and tongue.

"Fuck," The female counterpart muttered, wrapping her legs event tighter around his waist and holding on as he transported her to the nearest surface, which happened to be the couch. As soon as Jesse had disposed of the last article of clothing there was a flurry of movement as he pulled the girl towards the edge of the couch. Kneeling on the ground, he lowered his tongue to her clit and drew expert patterns until he felt the familiar tense in her thighs. It took awhile until her vocals kicked in, but he knew that once he had her singing there was no stopping her.

"Oh, shit!" Jesse felt his girlfriend lean back on the plush sofa, starting to breathe heavily as his right hand abandoned it's post on her small thigh and assisted his tongue on it's mission. Jesse loved that he could make her feel this way. The pride that came along with knowing that it was _him_ who made Charlie yell out in climax; it was _him_ that made her go wild and let loose. All him. And he wanted to keep it that way. So he continued his patterns even more rigorously than before, drowning himself in her cries and moans. With every swipe of his tongue and motion of his lips the coil in her lower stomach was growing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap very soon if he didn't stop his notions. Charlie's energy drained extremely fast, so it was important that Jesse recognized when an orgasm was worth it or not.

"Fuck! Oh my god!" Charlie keened and threw her head back as far as it would go, grabbing onto her boyfriends hair and digging her nails into his scalp. The pain wasn't a deterrent for him; in fact it only served to encourage him even further and push him to finish her off.

"You gonna cum?" Jesse's eyes flitted to watch her facial expression as he slid two fingers inside of her, flicking them upwards in a 'come hither' motion. He nearly regretted it a second later, because her gasp paired with the erotic jaw dropping and tilting of the head for the fifth time in a minute nearly had him shoot his load off in his pants.

"Please," Charlie sobbed, panting heavily and using whatever hold she had left on Jesse's hair to tug his mouth towards her centre, desperate for release at this point. He had to be gentle with her every time, that was for damn sure. The only time Charlie was rough was when she decided to take control, and that usually came under the influence of methamphetamine or cocaine. Not that Jesse was complaining; he preferred going slow instead of speeding through moments like these.

Jesse smiled darkly and hoisted her once again into his arms, transporting the naked girl up towards their bedroom. It wasn't that he wasn't comfortable with screwing around on the couch; heck, they had fucked everywhere besides the backyard at this point – even the roof had been conquered. It was the simple fact that Jesse didn't want to share Charlie with anyone; not even their house guest in the basement, who had probably heard their bout of foreplay. Jesse stored that small piece of information in the back of his mind, reminding himself to go beat the crap out of the dealer before Walt got his hands on him tomorrow. Now, however, there were more pressing matters at hand. Like a very naked Charlie who had started to play with herself on the mattress at his feet.

Jesse took a moment to regard the female before stripping out of the rest of his clothing, grabbing protection and practically falling on top of her and not sparing a moment before giving her exactly what she was begging for. He spared no mercy for poor Krazy 8 downstairs, who by this point was most likely fully aware of what the two were up to. With every thrust and every groan – most often accompanied by shouted profanities - from Charlie, he felt her nails claw further into his back and frequently dig down to embed themselves into his skin.

"Jesus Christ," Jesse muttered, burying his head into the crook of her neck and working on leaving a bruise. One of Charlie's hands flew up to tangle itself in his hair, and he found himself supporting his weight on one hand as his right paw travelled down towards her center. As soon as his nimble fingers came into contact with her clit again, she gave a harsh gasp and both hands flew up around his neck for support while their lips joined.

When he finally pulled back, he tried not to focus on her concaved stomach or the fact that her thighs seemed like children's arms around his waist – instead he set his mind on her tattoos and the variety of eighteen different piercings staring back at him. His gaze shifted back up to her face when he realized that she had moved up onto her elbows and her head had fallen back again. Sharp collarbones jutted out and he couldn't deny the fact that her ribcage was showing through her pale skin. Even the tattoos couldn't hide the innards that were threatening to break through at any moment. The concern and love that flooded through him at that moment simply made Jesse drive into Charlie with a more vigorous tempo, wanting to give her as much pleasure as humanly possible. The sound of skin slapping against skin became the only sound in the room for a brief moment before she responded by collapsing onto her back and gripping the sheets above her head as she gave another loud wail, vaguely resembling his name. The sound went straight to his groin, causing another growl to form in his throat.

"Come on," He muttered, pushing her farther towards the edge and continuing to circle her clit with his fingers. The coil was tightened further and further and threatening to snap at any moment when suddenly, her eyes rolled back into her head. "Shit – don't stop, just like tha- " A familiar pang from below interrupted her, and her orgasm hit her like a freight train as she released, screaming his name for a final time. Her tightening around him was what pushed Jesse over the edge, and he followed in her lead as they both rode out the waves of aftermath, slowing down the rhythm and briefly connecting lips again.

They lay in silence for several brief moments, the cliche sound of heavy breathing paired with the lighting of two cigarettes, before a banging from the basement could be heard. It was the scary reminder that no amount sinful activities could ward off the situation that was at hand downstairs. They ignored it and finished their cigarettes, only pausing to listen to Krazy 8's noises when the lights had been turned out.

"Tomorrow we'll tweak and figure this out, yeah?" Jesse muttered into her ear as they positioned themselves for sleep in between the messy sheets. He didn't want to deal with the threat downstairs at the moment.

"Mmmgh."

"Charlie?"

"Mmmgh."

"I'm sorry."

**|:|**

"Holy shit," Charlie was still in awe at the purest crystals that sat in front of her the next afternoon on the coffee table. "You guys cooked this?"

Jesse nodded, filling up his pipe and watching her begin to crush his and Walt's artwork. Some '70s black and white comedy show was on TV that day, and the two were preparing to deal with the body inside the RV. Jesse hadn't been happy when Charlie suggested that she could assist him with his task – apparently he and Mr. White had flipped a coin and it fell to Jesse to disintegrate the body in the bathtub. Considering the other task was to find a way to kill Krazy 8, disintegrating Emilio seemed like next to nothing.

The black haired girl grabbed a blade from near the ashtray and began to line the crushed drug up into rows. Feeling old school, she rolled up a single dollar bill and proceeded to clear off the first row. The kick – which sent her head reeling for a couple of seconds – was remarkable. She locked eyes with Jesse, who exhaled his own portion of the drug, and grinned. For several moments the two sat there feeling the rush from poisonous substances, eyes bugging out and pupils dilating. Jesse looked as if though he was about to say something, but was interrupted when there was a coughing from the basement. Two pairs of eyes flitting towards the grate underneath the staircase, and nervously met each other's again.

"Just meat is all," Jesse's breathing grew laboured as he leapt off the couch with newfound vigor, setting down his pipe. "…just a bunch of meat."

He stormed outside towards the RV, fully prepared to take on whatever situation was waiting for him. The crystal certainly helped in situations like these; a boost of increased attention, activity, wakefulness, euphoria and rush paired with decreased fatigue was the perfect mix. Charlie followed close behind, curious as ever and still fully intent on helping as much as possible.

"Oh Jesus," Jesse reeled from the scent once he had breached the vehicle, underestimating the smell that a dead body could make even if it had only been there overnight. Charlie sniffled, rubbing her nose back and forth and peeking over Jesse's shoulder with wide eyes. Flies coated the tarp where Emilio's corpse lay, buzzing excitedly and swarming themselves into a mass.

"You need help?" She croaked, swaying slightly and grabbing onto the wall for support.

"Oh god – yes, uh…" Jesse tried to comfort himself to no avail whilst pulling on gloves. "We're all good…in the hood. Just a bunch of meat. Grab that duct tape, baby."

Charlie pulled on her own set of gloves as they began the bagging process, pulling the tarp in a tight circle around the body with their newfound energy and trapping it with tape. Once secure, Jesse grabbed his former partner's feet and dragged him towards the door of the vehicle. Charlie looked on with visible concern, cringing as Emilio's head bounced step by step and eventually cracked against the pavement of their driveway. She hopped out of the RV and they both knelt down, preparing to lift the makeshift body bag into the house.

"Excuse me! You!" A woman's voice called out, catching the attention of both Charlie and Jesse who looked towards their fence in alarm. A blond haired woman was making her way across the street, obviously calling out to the two youth in the driveway. Charlie quickly positioned herself to cover the body bag, fearing the worst as she looked at her boyfriend in concern.

"Woah, woah! Hey hey hey! This is private property!" Jesse grew more agitated when the lady opened the fence and approached his position, glaring at the both of them.

"Just a minute – I want to talk to you!" The lady raised a finger, taking several more steps towards the two. "Yes, you!"

"Nope, nope! Not interested!" Jesse pushed past her and switched positions so that his back was against the fence, causing the lady to turn away from the body bag and Charlie.

"Do not touch me!" She covered her stomach, covering her swollen stomach. Charlie had seen enough pregnant relatives in her lifetime to know the signs. This woman was expecting, and Jesse needed to be careful. Hormone flow could make a big difference in an argument, especially if he sipped up and said something wrong.

"Alright, alright!" Jesse raised his hands. "Look – not touching, okay? Not touching here. Look lady, whatever you're selling; we ain't buyin', yo."

"Well," The lady retaliated, tilting her head in annoyance and looking back and forth between the two. "My name is Skylar White, _yo_. My husband is Walter White, _yo_."

Jesse shared an uneven glance with his girlfriend, who was still blocking Skylar's view of the body bag. Both broke out in nervous sweat at the mention of Mr. White, and Charlie began to shiver uncontrollably. She had decided against pants and shoes that day, only bothering to slip on one of Jesse's oversized sweaters and a beanie.

"Uh-huh," The women nodded with growing confidence, sensing the pair's anxiety. "And he told me _everything_."

Charlie's stomach dropped, and she tensed, eyes bugging out further. Jesse lowered his hands. "Seriously?" He muttered.

"That's right," The woman confirmed, stepping closer towards him. "And just so you know, my brother in law is a D.E.A agent, and I will not hesitate to call him – not if I have to. Understood? This is your one and only warning: do _not_ sell marijuana to my husband."

Charlie stopped fidgeting at this statement, and although relief flooded her veins she found herself shaking her head at her boyfriend in question, who in turn looked extremely confused. Was it possible that Mrs. White had forced a false confession out of her husband? Was she aware that she was standing on the tip of an iceberg?

"Okay?" Jesse's eyes darted nervously back and forth as he tensed uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with the free getaway.

"I mean it – don't call our house again! You stay away from him or you will be one sorry individual. You get me?"

"I-I think so…yeah?" Jesse nodded, wanting to get rid of the woman as soon as possible. "No more marijuana. I can dig it."

"You can dig it." Mrs. White repeated, disapproval evident in her tone. "Wonderful."

Charlie sighed in relief once the woman began to shift towards the gate again, but panicked once the blonde caught eyes with her. "Not that it's any of my business," Skylar turned towards them, eyeing Charlie's pale legs. "But you two might want to consider a different line of work."

"Okay." Jesse nodded once, and quickly shut the gate once the woman had turned away. Upon making sure that her car was safely down the road, the two dragged the body inside the house as quickly as possible whilst sharing harsh whispers.

"She thought you sold Mr. White _pot_?!"

"I have no fucking idea what just happened." Jesse merely shook his head, grabbing his pipe and taking another hit while Charlie made sure the duct tape was still fastened properly. Soon afterwards they began the process of pulling the body up the stairs, one that was unceremoniously slowed down when a piece of the tarp ripped and the body fell all the way to the base again. The tiny girl was knocked onto her butt, and let out a harsh yelp of pain.

"Son of a bitch!"

Motivated by frustration and anger, the two were able to move the body up the stairs by the second try, and continued to drag the dead cook into their second floor bathroom. As Jesse placed the body inside, Charlie went to fetch the hydrofluoric acid.

"Yeah – let's go to your house, yo," Jesse quipped, imitating Mr. White as he began to place all of Emilio's belongings into the tub. "Makes perfect sense – let's completely screw up your house so that you'll never wanna spend another night in there. Sure! Y'know, why not? Yeah, and then how's about I send over my psycho-bitch wife to, y'know, break your balls and threaten you? God, that'd be hilarious."

Charlie watched him from the corner of the room, biting her lip and trying to ease her nerves. She sniffled again, rubbing her runny nose and pulling the sleeves of her boyfriend's sweater further down her hands.

"And y'know," Jesse continued, pulling on rubber gloves and a gas mask. "The killer in the basement? The one who's completely my responsibility? A total fucking threat to your girlfriend? Hell, let's just let him live down there." He ripped his hat off and tossed it to Charlie, who caught it with expert precision and continued to gaze upon the scene in fascination. Out of all the crazy moments she had lived through in her life, this had to be one of the craziest.

"Just, I dunno – make sure to feed him like three times a day! Thank you so much for this opportunity! I always dreamt about melting bodies!" Jesse finished ranting, beginning to pour the acid onto the corpse. "Get outta here, baby girl – this stuff's toxic."

Charlie obeyed him, venturing downstairs to finish the last two lines of crystal from the morning.

**|:|**

"You got a brother in the goddamn D.E.A?" Jesse drawled, setting down his butane lighter and pipe as Mr. White made an appearance in their kitchen later that afternoon. Charlie still had her back towards the older man, and Walter dually noted that she was cooking something on the stovetop.

"What?" Walt spread his hands, trying to focus on his partner.

"You said you were just doin' some ride-along," Jesse pushed, now getting angry. "Yes or no – do you have a brother in the D.E.A?!"

"Brother in law." Walter clarified, taking further steps into the kitchen and identifying Charlie's meal as scrambled eggs.

"Oh," Jesse replied, tone sarcastic. "Well, there's a load off my mind."

"Where did you hear that?" His science teacher questioned.

"Your freaking wife told me when she was here all up in our shit."

Mr. White's mouth fell open in a horrified twisted grimace, nearly sickened by the fact that Skylar had made an appearance at the very house that they were standing in. If she began to have any sort of inkling that her husband was involved in strange, illicit activity, his whole operation could go down the drain.

"Yeah, that's right," Jesse nodded as if this entire thing had been Walter's fault. "She almost caught me moving Emilio! Good job on wearing the pants in the family – and why'd you go and tell her I was sellin' you weed?"

"Because somehow it seemed preferable to admitting I cooked crystal meth and killed a man." Mr. White shot back, leaning on the kitchen island and huffing a bit, overwhelmed by the amount of thoughts flowing into his head all at once. "Is that what I think it is?" The smell of acid was heavy in the room, causing the high school teacher to sniff inconspicuously.

"Yeah, yeah it is," Jesse made a face, expecting a scolding. "We smoke a lot – so what? Our house, our rules. Don't give me that, alright? I held up my end – I already took care of Emilio! You're still diddling around trying to get your nut up."

Charlie cleared her throat quietly, cracking another egg on the stovetop and shaking the pan a bit. Vegetables had been added to the mix, now steaming along with the rest of the eggs in the large metal utensil.

"Oh, well boo-hoo," Mr. White pointed a finger at his own chest. "I have the truly awful job here."

"You wanna talk awful?" Jesse rose to his full height, raising his voice again. "You wanna go there? Try dragging two hundred pounds of stink up a flight of stairs – I barely got him in the bathtub!"

At this statement, Mr. White quieted and shook his head in confusion. "Bathtub? Wha– what do you mean bathtub?"

"Yo and that's another thing!" Jesse raised a hand in frustration. "Why you got me running around town trying to find some stupid piece of plastic when I have a perfectly good tub I can use?"

"Oh god…" Mr. White left the kitchen in a seemingly terrified daze, venturing into the hallway directly underneath where the bathtub sat. Out of curiosity, Charlie abandoned the eggs and followed her old chemistry teacher. The sight that greeted her was most peculiar; the ceiling seemed to be dripping blood. For several moments the three stood still and watched the drops get faster and faster until suddenly, the ceiling concaved and a mass of blood, guts, bones and acid splattered all over the hallway. Charlie let out a shrill shriek, clutching at Jesse's sweater in nervous fear, horrified at the half disintegrated remains of Emilio – and her bathtub - that were spread all over her floor.

"I'm sorry - what were you asking me?" Mr. White turned to Jesse sarcastically. "Oh yes - that 'stupid plastic container' I asked you to buy. You see, hydrofluoric acid won't eat through plastic; it will, however, dissolve metal, rock, glass, _ceramic_. So there's that."


	3. and the Bag's in the River

**'…****and the Bag's in the River'**

There were two smells in Jesse's house the next morning; burnt eggs and acid. Groaning as he remembered the events that had transpired yesterday, the twenty four year old sat up and gazed upon the sleeping lump beside him. Her alarm hadn't gone off yet, meaning it still wasn't past eight twenty-five and it was too early to deal with a disintegrated body in his hallway. Unfortunately, just as he flopped back down into the cozy mattress and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend, her cellphone blared to life. This time, both youths let out disappointed groans and rolled over.

"You need a ride to work?" Jesse lit a cigarette as he watched his significant other pull on jeans and worn converse. Again he was reminded of her thin frame as his eye caught the 'Kids S' tag on her pants. He remembered her whining about having to purchase from the Kid's section of thrift stores to find jeans – one of the blatant signs that something was wrong with her weight. Jesse would never fully understand how someone so beautiful and so loved could hate themselves just as much as Charlie did.

"That would be lovely." She smiled, crawling over to Jesse so that her legs straddled his and laying a kiss on his lips. Again, a suggestive grin crept up on his face and his hands crawled up to her sides, sliding up and down against her skin.

"I'm gonna be late, big boy." Charlie grinned back, sliding up off of her boyfriend and tossing him a shirt. "Let's bounce."

Jesse made another noise of protest but reluctantly rose from the bed, sliding on shoes and grabbing the car keys. The two peeled out of the driveway moments later, Jesse still trying to convince Charlie to eat a bit of granola bar before going in to work. It took him several minutes, but she eventually gave in once he locked the car doors and refused to let her start her shift until she took a bite. It cost him his goodbye smooch, but to him it was worth it. Giving her even the tiniest bit of nutrition to start the day off was essential, even if it meant that she would be moody until lunch. Jesse sighed as he drove back to the house, grimacing as he remembered the task that awaited him once he would arrive back home. Mr. White was due to show up in about an hour to assist in helping him clean Emilio's bloody remains, something that Jesse knew he would never hear the end of. It was a stupid mistake on his part – perhaps Mr. White was right…he should have paid more attention in Chemistry class.

**|:|**

During Charlie's lunch break, Jesse had very angrily pulled into the _Los Pollos _parking lot, heading straight for the back of the building where he knew all of the smokers took their daily doses of tar and nicotine. Considering Charlie barely ate or used the bathroom, he knew that he could almost always find her at the back of the restaurant during her breaks.

"Hey angel," He greeted, sauntering up to her and giving her a warm hug. She buried herself in his arms, careful not to burn his sweater with her fag. "How're you doin'?"

"I'm alright," She smiled up at him, eyes glinting like a cats. "How 'bout you?"

"Oh man," Jesse sniffed, switching his weight from foot to foot and beginning to explain the events that had taken place prior to his arrival at the restaurant chain. "Mr. White went totally crazy, yo!" Jesse ranted, pacing back and forth. Charlie shushed him, sensing his anger and taking another drag of her cigarette. "He tried to flush my glass – and he still hasn't done anything about Krazy 8 -"

"He's still locked in our basement?"

"I don't even -" Jesse seemed extremely frustrated, and delved in his pocket to search for his own pack of cigarettes whilst checking the time. "You're gonna be late, baby. Start your shift – I'll wait in the car."

Charlie stubbed out her cigarette butt and pecked her boyfriend once more on the lips before disappearing inside, struggling with the heavy door. Jesse watched her go with squinted eyes, wondering how the hell she managed to stay alive in a shithole restaurant like _Los Pollos. _It was no secret to her employers that she had serious problems; he had received calls from concerned fellow employees after Charlie had passed out in the locker room several times, and he had broken several traffic laws to get to her on time before her boss managed to send her to the hospital. There was no denying that her weight was becoming a serious problem.

**|:|**

"Thanks for stopping at _Los Pollos _– have a nice afternoon!" Charlie quoted from the company's script and bid her final customers farewell. Retreating into the 'employees only' locker area, she located number 14 and replaced her work shirt with one of Jesse's more comfortable shirts. It came down to about mid thigh and drooped well past her hands. Used to these setbacks, she simply pushed the sleeves up and grabbed the rest of her personal effects before slamming the locker door closed. Quickly locating the red Monte Carlo in the parking lot, she set a brisk pace towards it and lit a cigarette in the process. She woke a sleeping Jesse, and the two clambered into the front seats of the car.

"We're stayin' at Crossroads tonight," Jesse placed the keys in the ignition and started the vehicle. "Mr. White's gotta deal with Krazy 8 on his own."

Charlie merely nodded and accepted, only slightly miffed about the fact that she would have to spend the night without Po. That teddy bear was the only valuable that she had left; she hated spending more than a night without it. Jesse caught her eye and grabbed her hand, stroking her thumb lightly. Trying to distract her, he turned on the radio and asked about the tips she had collected. Grinning, she pulled out her wallet and showed him the thick stack of cash. Compared to the wads he had made selling his drugs it was nothing, but she was still proud.

"There was this cute old lady today that really liked her smoothie, so she gave me extra." Charlie placed the money back in her pocket and folded her legs up to her chest, running a hand through her hair. Even though she tried her very best to hide it, Jesse caught sight of the clump of long black strands that she held in between her fingers for a couple of seconds before discarding it out the window. He sighed and chose to say nothing, but he felt Charlie's eyes on him as he pulled into the motel's parking lot.

While Jesse rented a room for the night, Charlie ventured up to room 106A and softly knocked on the door. There was some rustling inside, and after several seconds her dealer opened the door. Scott was a fairly pleasant guy for someone who sold heroin, and not many customers were aware of his hidden apartment in the 'crystal palace'. Charlie however, was one of his long time customers, and she deserved the privilege of knowing his secret getaway locations. She quickly purchased several grams, thanking the skies for her good week at work, and bid farewell to Scott. Running into Jesse on the staircase, she didn't even bother to hide the box she was clutching in her fingers, causing him to sigh. He merely wrapped an arm around her and led the girl to 112B – their usual abode. Not even minutes after they had settled in and turned on the TV to catch 'Duck Tales', there was a quiet knocking at the door. Jesse turned down the volume and unraveled himself from Charlie's arms, going to open the door discreetly.

"You got anything?" A gruff voice questioned. Recognizing the tone, Charlie rose from the bed and crept towards the door. She usually kept her distance from Jesse's customers, but Wendy Stewart was one of the few exceptions.

"Hey kid," Wendy gave half a smile as she caught sight of Charlie, and Jesse opened the door further to let the older woman inside. "How are you doin'?"

"I'm alright," Charlie smiled, going to grab a root beer from the fridge and popping it open for the blonde woman. "How are you? How's Patrick?"

"We're both just fine," Wendy gladly accepted the cool drink while she waited for Jesse to separate her share of his infamous illegal substance. "He's stayin' with daddy for awhile."

"Yeah?" Charlie sat Indian-style on the bed, picking at her fading nail polish. "Is his new school okay?"

"Loves his teachers – and the other kids are friendly," Wendy shrugged, sliding eighty bucks over towards the table for Jesse. "But I got booted out of the place for smokin' during parent teacher night."

Charlie had taken care of Patrick for a brief period of time while his mother had been in jail for several weeks – something that Wendy would never be able to forget. Patrick was a bright young boy, very attached to his meth head of a mother and always eager to chip in his two cents. He was the cutest little boy Charlie had ever known; even Jesse had taken a strange liking to him.

"Here," Jesse tossed a small baggie towards the blonde woman, and she rose to her feet wearily.

"Nice seein' ya, kid." She ruffled Charlie's hair and exited the room, footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Jesse locked the door behind the drug-addled mother, leaning his forehead briefly against it before going to rejoin Charlie on the bed. The two fell asleep moments later tangled in each other's forms, not even bothering to get undressed.

**|:|**

The next morning was strange and slightly nerve wracking as the pair drove back to the house, unsure about what they were going to find there. As soon as they pulled into the driveway, Jesse instructed Charlie to wait in the car, and she obeyed with wide eyes while her boyfriend hopped out and checked the RV. Upon approving that it was clear, he opened the passenger door for her and ushered her out by the hand. The two made their way inside the house, where Jesse called out several times to make sure the home was clear. After leaving Walter on such an unhappy note, he was nervous about the amount of retaliation he was going to face.

Instructing Charlie to wait in the – what she noted was now sparkling clean – hallway, Jesse opened the door to the basement. "Hello? Anybody down here?"

There was no response, so the two let themselves downstairs. What greeted them was a very clean, empty basement. Charlie waited by the stairs, biting her knuckles as her nerves slowly took over. Did this mean that Krazy 8 had been let loose? Where was Walter? Why hadn't he left a note or a message?

Jesse walked across the stone cold floor until he reached the pipe where Krazy 8 had been locked up against, and grabbed at something sitting on a nearby shelf. His bike lock lay abandoned, keys next to it. Picking it up and turning around, he held it out to where Charlie could see it. Her eyes flitted nervously between the object and her boyfriend's gaze, teeth pulling at skin as hard as they would work. It was only until Jesse walked back across the basement and took her knuckles out of her mouth that she came to her senses and asked the one question that was on both of their minds.

"What do you think happened?"


	4. Cancer Man

**Cancer Man**

There were little nerves in the Pinkman household the next morning, as both Charlie and Jesse were comforted by the fact that Walter had finally come to his senses and strangled Krazy 8 to death before dumping his body in a bin of hydrofluoric acid and flushing him down the toilet. Charlie sincerely hoped that the piping wouldn't take any serious damage; they had enough to worry about already with the giant hole for a bathtub. Although it didn't really make a difference in their lives – they had a shower in the main floor bathroom and rarely had guests over – it was still disturbing to have a gigantic, blood covered hole in their ceiling. Speaking of guests, the hole would prove to be a distraction when Skinny Pete and Combo came over later in the afternoon, wanting to hear more about the 'wicked batch' that Jesse had recently cooked up. On his way back from the bathroom, Combo questioned his friend about the bloody mess.

"Nah man," Charlie heard her boyfriend explain nervously. "I think the house is just settling. Y'know, it's been cavin' in left and right. Hit me in the eye; it's bananas."

"Yo – my pops could fix you up," Skinny Pete's voice traveled to Charlie's ears from the living room where he lay. "He's like a contractor or somethin'."

Charlie was very comfortable with Jesse's friends – she had known them since they had started dating back in high school and was familiar with their personalities. They were all unique in their own way; Skinny Pete had more of a relaxed, strung back attitude about him, while Badger was the nervous type and Combo just went along with anything and everything that was tossed his way. They all enjoyed Charlie's company, more than happy to try out her recipes and taking care of her if Jesse needed help.

"Guys," She called out from the kitchen, expecting at least one reply and instead getting three 'yeah's?' in return. "If I made nachos and chocolate strawberries would you eat 'em?"

There were choruses of 'hell yeah's' and 'bring it on's', and so Charlie grinned and began to whip up the dish, ignoring the rest of the conversation. It wasn't until she retrieved the nachos from the microwave and coated the already chocolate covered strawberries with white chocolate that she emerged from the kitchen and tuned in on the conversation, which had faded slightly due to the meth pipe being passed around. Pete eyed her bare legs and held the nachos for her as she cleared some space on the table, setting the food down and accepting the pipe from Combo who delved straight into the strawberries.

"Doll," Pete nudged her after she had exhaled the smoke into three large rings. "You gonna eat any of your own food?"

Charlie shook her head blatantly, earning a noise of disapproval from Jesse. "Come on, baby," He argued, pulling her into his lap and grabbing a strawberry. "You made it – try at least one."

The girl sighed, regarding Combo wolf down her snacks wearily. Grabbing the strawberry between her fingers she plopped it in her mouth and chewed unhappily, earning applause from Pete. To prevent a binge and to get the taste out of her mouth, she loaded more crystal into the pipe and stole another hit. Whatever Jesse and Mr. White had done – they had done it right; this meth was extremely pure and extremely potent. The rush was euphoric and instant. Charlie felt like she could conquer the world on this stuff. She never actually amounted to anything remotely drastic, but once Combo and Skinny Pete had left their house she ended up pushing Jesse up the stairs and practically ripping her clothing off, desperate to take control in a situation where she hardly ever had any.

He grinned at her newfound vigor, gladly assisting her into the appropriate position and weaving his fingers into her hair when she went down on him. The delicious mixture of lips and tongue had him reeling in the pit of pleasure for several minutes until she pulled away, deciding that somehow he would be able to control himself while she lowered herself on top of him. Letting out several profanities, he gripped her hips tightly as she began to move up and down, running a hand through her hair and closing her dilated eyes. Although the drug provided boosts of stamina, Charlie found herself tired out within what seemed like moments later. Jesse quickly took control of the situation, wrapping a hand around her waist and bringing the other one around to her neck to bring her lips down to his. As he began to drive his hips harder and faster into her, her vocal chords erupted in choruses of erotic moans and curses, a wonderful mix of sin and filth to the highest of capacities. It nearly drove Jesse mad the way that she behaved in bed; the reward for pushing her closer and closer to the edge was addictive every time.

"Charlie - fuck," He leant back against the mattress and watched her bounce up and down again, rubbing her own clit and grasping at her breast. "Jesus Christ."

He couldn't resist; he flipped her over onto her hands and knees and gripped her by the back of her neck. It was a position that they used often; one that he knew Charlie got the most pleasure out of. Soon she was mewling like a kitten and begging for him to finish her off, grasping behind her for his hand and leading it straight to her core where he circled her clit once again.

"Yes!" She shouted, stretching forwards like a cat and gasping wantonly. "Jesse – OH!"

Her last gasp came as a warning before her muscles clenched down on him, rippling and milking him for every last drop he could offer. Spilling his load into the condom that they had somehow remembered to slide on, he slid his hands up and down Charlie's back before flopping off to the side and disposing of the used rubber. He found that sleep came over him fairly quickly, but noted that Charlie's eyes were still bugged and wide-awake. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the familiar sound of her lighting a cigarette.

**|:|**

It was nine in the morning, and Jesse had picked up the pipe again. This time, thanks to the larger dosage of narcotics, he sensed a different sort of high coming on. There was the sound of a helicopter in the distance, and soon enough he heard the rumbling sound of motorcycle engines roaring down the street. Beginning to panic as the two giant bikers stopped in front of his house, he watched with wide eyes as the two dismounted and headed towards his front door. One of them unsheathed a sword, while the other played with a grenade in his right hand. Jesse stumbled away from the window, fully intent on making a mad dash from the house with Charlie in tow. He crawled towards the stereo and grabbed the stashed meth, clambering up the stairs and shaking a groggy Charlie awake. The poor thing hadn't slept all night as a result of the drug use, and she was now functioning on an empty stomach, tired brain and little sleep. Needless to say she was very confused when Jesse flicked her ear to get her attention. He felt horrible about waking her up while she was recovering, but this was an emergency.

"Mm?" She half opened her eyes and was greeted with the sight of a very panicked Jesse, who pulled her out of bed and dressed her in one of his oversized sweaters and forgetting pants altogether. She nearly fell over slipping on her converse, but Jesse managed to put them on for her while she practically dozed off on his shoulder. He didn't know how much time had passed since those two big guys had parked in front of his house, but he figured he still had some time left before they busted in his door.

"Let's go," Jesse grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs, leading her out the closest first story window. She stumbled after him, still half asleep and gripping his hand for all that it was worth. They nervously stumbled onto a bus going downtown, only stopping to buy a pack of cigarettes and some water. As their highs wore off, he deducted that the bikers had most likely been hallucinations; all part of a bad trip for which he had placed Charlie in unnecessary emergency-mode for. She was still trembling when they decided that their best bet was to spend a couple nights at his parent's home. Charlie had visited his family before, but to no avail. At first they weren't sure how to approach the obviously underweight, addicted teen that their eldest son had invited over for dinner. By this time they had been dating for over three years, and Jesse figured his parent's must have come to their senses about him having a girlfriend. Apparently not; she was lectured by his mother about her eating habits and questioned by his father about her track marks, scars and bruises. Jesse had to coax her through three panic attacks that night and beg her to stay in his room, fearing to let her go home alone in her current mind state. There were several reasons why the current day Jesse Pinkman didn't want to bring Charlie back into his household while his family was there (she otherwise enjoyed it when they weren't – in fact the adored their quaint little house) it was a last resort; there was no way they were going back to his house when those bikers were still hanging out here. Even if it was just a hallucination, he wasn't taking any chances.

He boosted Charlie over the fence, who let out a rather large yelp and landed hard on the other side. Apologizing profusely, Jesse vaulted over himself and went to tend to the girl. She waved him off and muttered angrily in denial, and the two began to walk towards the house. Unfortunately that progress was halted when the darkness assisted Jesse in tripping over lawn furniture and ensnaring him in a cheap plastic lawn chair.

"Who's there?" Mr. Pinkman's familiar voice rang out in the large yard as Jesse continued to try and get his leg out of the chair. It took him a couple seconds to recognize the pair, and he spread his arms in confusion.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Hey dad," Jesse waved; disregarding the question completely and looking onwards as his family came outside to see what the ruckus was. "Hey mom! Jake! You guys got new patio furniture – right on…" He continued to try and tug his leg out to no avail, so an ever-so-silent Charlie grabbed the chair and shoved him out of it eventually. The two were granted access to the house after an awkward moment, and told that tomorrow details would be ironed out. Jesse's family didn't even acknowledge Charlie's presence; only pausing to shake their heads as the two extremely worn out youths stumbled their way into Jesse's old room. Charlie basically face-planted onto the mattress, familiar with the surroundings of concerning drawings and old photos of Jesse in elementary school. Like usual, the room looked as if someone had paused his age at 10 – still a fairly innocent kid with the same potential as anyone else. Charlie knew it pained Jesse to see Jake – he was the Pinkmans' most preferred son and they loved to shove him in everybody's faces as the billboard for their family. Jesse was pushed out of the picture; forgotten and 'lost'. They wanted even less to do with the 'degenerate filth' that he hung out with, which meant Charlie was nothing more than a speck of dirt to them.

Jesse climbing into bed after examining the state of his old room, he wrapped a hand around his already sleeping girlfriend and allowed himself to fall asleep. The pair slept there, spooning throughout the whole night and the entire next day. This was usual if Charlie didn't have to go to work and Jesse wasn't cooking, or in rare cases like these when the mattress was almost addictive. When the two woke the next evening, they paid no attention to the fact that each had basically missed a day in their lives.

"Mornin'." She heard Jesse jokingly mutter from the crook of her neck. The rush of air made her shudder, laughter bubbled up her throat. It was quickly quieted when she heard the sounds of movement downstairs; presumably the Pinkmans getting ready for dinner. Jesse managed to convince Charlie to come down the stairs, grasping her hand for comfort and weaving his fingers through hers. They shared a reinforcing kiss on the stairs, silently urging each other to stay strong through the painful memories for the time being.

"Hey," Jesse leaned in the doorway once he had led Charlie to the kitchen.

"Hey," Mr. Pinkman responded, both adults turning to face the doorway now. "Good evening."

"Sleep well?" Mrs. Pinkman raised her eyebrows at the two, and Charlie found herself shocked that she was even acknowledging her existence, let alone asking her a fully respectful question. So she bit her lip and nodded, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and playing with the string on Jesse's sweater.

Jesse ignored the question, instead asking about the condition of mealtime. "What time's dinner?"

"In about an hour," Mrs. Pinkman responded, acknowledging at the food that she had been preparing. "You know I could wash those clothes if you'd like; they look a little lived in."

She eyed Jesse's clothing wearily and nodded towards Charlie, who was now barefoot on the rich wooden floor. Her son had clearly attached himself to this girl who - based on the way she was leaning into him like he was the only safety in the room - had placed the same trust in him. The Pinkman's had always remembered Charlie after every negative thing in her life; her self destructive streaks and her abusive family, her terrible grades and illicit activities. Their crude sense of judgment degraded Charlie and reminded her of the endless amount of failures she had amounted to in her lifetime. Despite the rudeness she encountered in the Pinkman household, she found herself quietly abiding to its rules each and every time she stepped inside.

"Nah, that's cool," Jesse gave a half smile and Charlie followed his lead. "Maybe later."

He led her towards the dining area, where she began to hand him the cutlery while he placed it on the organized settings. They performed the task sullenly, both aware of Jesse's parents regarding them in the doorway quietly. Neither of the two turned to face the married couple. Instead, Charlie dropped her head onto her boyfriend's shoulder, prompting a soft kiss on the forehead. After his parents had cleared the room and the two had finished setting the table, Charlie let out another large yawn. Jesse led her back to his bed, where she promptly fell asleep again. He ventured off to Jacob's room, finding the kid seated in his room and typing away on his Mac.

"Hey buddy," Jesse nodded towards his younger brother, disregarding the long essay on the screen and strutting over to the trophies lined on the wall. "When did you get these?"

"Last May at the year-end assembly," Jacob responded, turning to face the twenty year old who clearly hadn't been home for a long time. "They gave me that one too – the one on the end."

"Environmental consciousness award," Jesse quoted, picking up the engraved glass square with his brother's name carved into it. "What's that mean? You, like, recycle cans an' shit?"

"I contacted the Albuquerque Journal and asked what chemicals they use to bleach their paper." Jacob promptly ignored Jesse's foul language. "They wound up writing an article about it."

"Right on, little bro!" Jesse grinned. "Makin' mad in-roads with the business community. All right! Now, hey, remember: not all learning comes out of books."

Jesse leaned his lanky frame on the trophy case, a strange mixture of both pride and anger filling his chest. He was conflicted; while he accepted the fact that he fucked up consistently and was a failure to his parents, he was proud of his little brother for becoming more successful in a shorter timespan at a younger age. The pressure had been taken off his shoulders once it was clear that Jacob would be the one to make their parents proud, but it still caused jealousy in the pit of Jesse's stomach when he saw the endless awards and the amount of praise that followed Jacob wherever he walked.

"Look at you," He continued, wallowing in his frustration. "We should hang out more often – y'know? Hang out and chill? I mean, if you ever like, I dunno – need advice…" He trailed off, unsure of where his sentence had been going. The only thing that he could really help his brother out with was to warn him about the amount of danger that awaited in the real world.

"Because, yo – I mean, I've been through it all. For real -" Jesse interrupted his speech once he caught sight of the black box on the bed that he had situated himself upon. "Hey man – you play the flute?"

"It's a piccolo, actually."

"Dude!" Jesse grinned, unsure of whether he was enraged or enthralled by the information that his brother had yet another newfound talent. "Play some Jethro Tull!"

"Hey guys," Mrs. Pinkman smiled in the doorway, obviously concerned at the way Jesse was hanging over his brother. She didn't want any of his reckless ways to be absorbed into her perfect son. "How're we doin' in here?"

"We're good," Jesse responded, miffed that they had even found it necessary to check on him.

"Jake?" She looked to her other son for confirmation, not trusting the word of her eldest.

"Yeah," He confirmed, looking back at her. "We're fine, mum."

"Good!" She backed out of the room and left the door open; something she had learned to do out of experience. Jesse had locked himself in his room one too many times with Charlie when he had been staying at the house, blasting his music so that his parents wouldn't hear the noises of the furniture in his room creaking or the sound of their moans. "That's great!"

"What the hell?" Jesse's tone dropped an octave, his anger igniting once he saw the blatant lack of lenience and privacy in his little brother's life. "You see this? What, am I some criminal or something?"

"Whatever," Jacob shrugged, continuing to type away.

"Whatever?" Jesse made a face, unable to process the fact that the other boy had given in to the control their mother held. "What, you think that's okay? Like, 'Oh, we can't let that scumbag warp the mind of our favorite on."

"I'm the favorite?" The younger boy scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, right. You're practically all they ever talk about. You and Charlie."

**|:|**

Charlie was awoken by the sound of papers ruffling later in the evening. After barely taking a few bites of dinner – this time Mrs. Pinkman hadn't said anything about her eating habits – her and Jesse had smoked a cigarette each and retreated back to bed. The small black haired girl could already sense that this was going to be a restless night for him, but she didn't expect to wake and find him tearing through old memories like they were tissues. Sitting up in the bed, she regarded him quietly while he laughed over several sheets of cartoon paper.

"Oh snap - awesome," She heard him mutter. It seemed as though he was going to retreat back to bed in a good mood, but his laughter was halted when he turned the paper over to reveal what appeared to be a test. Even from her perch on the bed, Charlie could see the giant 'F' scribbled across the top of the page. It was a mark that she was unfortunately extremely familiar with. She watched Jesse dump everything else back in the box before shutting it, and he jumped back in shock when he realized that she had been sitting up, staring at him.

"Did I wake you up?" He climbed back into bed, stroking her hair and pulling her back against his chest as they leaned against the headboard.

"No," She lied, burying her face in his neck and breathing in his scent.

There was a vibration to the couples' left, and two pairs of eyes watched Jesse's cell phone light up. He answered it, chest rumbling as he spoke. Charlie could faintly hear Combo's voice on the other end, questioning her boyfriend about the 'product'. The boys had to be careful on the phone when negotiating deals; you never knew when the NSA could be listening to a call or if the D.E.A had somebody wired.

"Nah man, okay?" Jesse grew angry as he suspected his friend of trying to mooch more crystal. "I'm done givin' out freebies. You want charity – go ask the Salvation Army."

"No," Combo clarified. "No charity – I got this cousin with some rich friends. These dudes are in town and they're lookin' to part-ay. And your stuff is, like, so sweet! So what do you say? You up for making some fat stacks? 'Cause they'll buy everything you got."

**|:|**

Eight thousand dollars in cash was collected the next morning, half of which was given to one very angry Walter White. Apparently he didn't appreciate Jesse delivering his share of profit – even though the 'ball breaker' of a wife had left for the day.

**|:|**

"Have you two got anything to say about this?" Mr. and Mrs. Pinkman sat across the table from Charlie and Jesse, eyes just as unfriendly as Charlie had remembered them years ago.

A tiny joint sat in the middle of the table, threatening to break apart the very seams of the Pinkman's 'perfect family' image and only increasing their suspicion that their son was still some deadbeat junkie with an equally addicted, crazy girlfriend. The couple in question looked back from the joint to the two parents, ready to take the blame for anything that was tossed their way. The two had agreed to hide Jacob's paraphernalia in a small plant pot in their room – the boy was too nervous to hide it in his own – but the cleaning lady had foiled their plans.

"What do you know about that?" Jesse's father pointed at the white stick.

"Nothing." Jesse was quick, but his father was quicker.

"Well, that's not gonna fly this time."

His mother took over, tears threatening to spill over in her eyes. "How many chances have we given you? How many times have we sat right here and had the same conversation over and over again where you look us in the eye and you plead ignorance, and you play on our emotions, and you tell us anything you think we want to hear just so we'll give you another chance? And it makes us feel like fools, every time. Enough, Jesse. Enough."

Charlie could see pain reflecting in Jesse's eyes, and she realized the gravity of the situation sitting in front of her. Jesse was taking this guilt trip of a beating – one that he had received many times but was more and more painful each time he received it – for his brother; to make sure that his parents still held the belief and illusion that at least _one _of their sons was perfect. At least _one _their sons would finish college and get a degree in something useful and amount to something in the world. He was taking the beating to withhold some sanity in his old home; to keep the peace and sacrifice himself so that his parent's dream wouldn't be ruined. Knowing that he would most likely benefit from her support at this point, she gripped his hand underneath the table. Jesse's jaw clenched and unclenched as he shook his head in fury. She could sense that he was already debating whether or not this had been a good idea. Of course upon finding any drugs in the house the Pinkman's would associate the illegal substances with Jesse and not Jacob – so why _not _take the fall for his brother?

_Because, _Jesse found himself thinking. _It would be amazing to shatter their divine, ignorant world. _

"We are not going to have this in our house," His father continued. "We need you two to leave."

Jesse looked back and forth between his parents again, noting that his mother refused to catch his eye and his father wouldn't budge from his seat. He scoffed, gripping Charlie's hand even tighter as he rose to his feet and grabbed the joint off the table. It was ridiculous, really; parents kicking their helpless son out simply because of a little weed. But as both Charlie and Jesse knew, the Pinkman's rarely accepted even the tiniest signs of misconduct or rebellion. So, the two miscreants got together what little they had the next morning and shuffled out of the house, calling a taxi in the process and not even bothering to say goodbye.

Jesse played with his hat while they waited on the curb as Charlie sat and tied her converse properly, slightly relieved that morning after having found one of her old pairs of jeans in Jesse's drawers. Behind them, the door creaked slightly as Jacob stepped out into the cool October air, making his way to where the two were waiting.

"Thanks for not telling them," He looked first to Jesse, and then to Charlie, who stood and smiled at the boy. "You think I could have it back?"

The yellow taxi pulled up behind the three, prompting Jesse to motion to the driver to wait for a minute. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tightly wrapped stick, looking as though he was going to hand it back over to its rightful owner but quickly destroying it instead. He dropped the ruined paraphernalia and crushed it again with the foot of his shoe, turning back to the confused younger boy after he had kicked it into the street.

"It's skunk weed, anyway." He grabbed at Charlie's waist and gently nudged her into the car. Charlie smiled at her boyfriend, proud after watching him make the choice to protect his brother from any kind of drug whatsoever. No matter what, she was sure that Jesse didn't want to be the one to help corrupt Jacob. If Jacob wanted to go down that path, he would have to venture it himself. Jesse's hands were dirty enough as it was.


	5. Gray Matter

**'****Gray Matter'**

"A job interview?" Charlie could barely believe her ears the next morning. She hadn't seen Jesse try this hard to fit in to the normal lifestyle since graduating year, where he had unsuccessfully tried to pass one of his math tests. She vividly remembered the day when they received their results because of the expression on Jesse's face when he was handed the paper. The poor thing had been broken up about it for days, wallowing in his self-loathing and coming close to doing some serious harm to Mr. Murphy, their twelfth grade math teacher. Charlie shook her head and tried not to get caught up in the past, dressing in her usual work attire and tying her shoes while applying makeup haphazardly. She tried to catch onto bits and pieces of what her boyfriend had been trying to explain to her for the past five minutes.

"I dunno," He exited the bathroom where she assumed he had been fixing his hair. "I'll give it a shot."

"Well," She got up off the mattress and grabbed a sweater on the way downstairs, tossing her essential items in the pockets. "Bring the paper with you and check who else is hiring – you never know."

"I will." He saw her off safely to the bus, making sure that she brought a bottle of water and at the very least a granola bar to work. Even if it was only a little, some nutrition was better than nothing.

**|:|**

"You'll never guess who I ran into today," Jesse squinted up at Charlie several hours later, sun beating down into his eyes. "Get in."

She obeyed; curling up in the passenger seat and playing with the yellow tie he had long since ripped off his neck. She listened while Jesse explained to her just how fast he'd bounced out of Arroyo Realty, only to find Badger working the job he hadn't known he had almost applied for – a human billboard. The two had shared a joint, and Jesse had told his friend that he had been thinking of quitting the meth business. Badger – knowing Jesse's potential considering what he had tasted from his last batch – had offered to cook with him. From the way he explained it, Charlie sensed that he had faced some inner conflict when Badger had offered to partner up. The way she saw it, Jesse could have chosen the right path or the easy path – he could have continued to search for a job and mold himself into a somewhat adequate person in society, or he could continue to cook crystal methamphetamine and lay low. Charlie found herself almost relieved at the fact that he had chosen to continue his career as a criminal – although she felt cruel admitting it, she knew that Jesse's best bet at leaving a mark on the world was through what he knew to do best, which was the drug trade.

"So he's comin' over here later," Jesse stopped at an intersection and raised a brow, watching as Charlie nodded in understanding. His tie was still tangled in her fingers. "How was work?"

"It was okay," She sighed melodically, tilting her head to the side as she tried to focus on what she had learnt that day. "My boss was there today – Gus, right? And he taught me how to fry stuff with the big metal cages and the oil that sizzles when you put stuff in it."

Charlie imitated the sound of fries and chicken covered in batter being dunked into the vats of oil, and Jesse found himself laughing at her impression. He couldn't exactly help it; he found her stories and enthusiasm positively adorable, and was always interested in hearing about her stories from work. On some days he would get horror stories about babies wailing and 'fire in the hole' pranks that her fellow employees had to deal with, and on other days she was very quiet, refusing to say a word. It was on days like those where Jesse knew someone had either made a comment about her weight, her scars, or her tattoos.

Jesse absent-mindedly pulled the Monte Carlo into their driveway, accepting his tie back from Charlie and unlocking the door. While she traveled to the kitchen to make yet another snack that she wouldn't eat, he changed from the only set of decent working class clothing he had to his usual baggy attire. When he clomped back down the stairs he found her slicing apples into eighths and dipping them into peanut butter before sprinkling them with granola.

"What are these?" He stared at the array of sliced fruit before him, wrapping his hands around Charlie's waist and leaning his chin on her shoulder.

"Half moons," She murmured. "They're for you and Badger if you get hungry."

Jesse tilted his head to the left, watching her facial expression with curiosity. "You are the single most thoughtful person I know, Macey."

"Thank you." She responded softly. The comment made a smile spread across her face, and he grew happy as he realized that in that moment he had brought her some joy and confidence. It was a very filling feeling to provide that sort of comfort for someone, especially after they had suffered through a hell of a lot of self-confidence destructing events.

"I love you," He muttered into her ear, kissing her again and again on her cheek until she finally turned her head and caught his lips.

"I love you too." She smiled, picking up the container with the apples inside and placing it in the fridge. Even after all these years, the connection she had with this boy was stronger than ever.

It would be another hour before Badger showed up, and when he did he brought a mighty appetite along with him. Before he and Jesse left for the afternoon – both warning that they wouldn't be home until late – Charlie handed him the half moons. The look of happiness on Badger's face was priceless, and he turned to Jesse with a look of euphoria.

"Dude – you gotta marry this one." Badger laughed and gulfed down three of the delicious apple bites.

"That's the plan," Jesse grinned, igniting a spark in Charlie's eyes as they shared a brief farewell. "I'll see you in a day or two."

**|:|**

"You are a genius, bro!" Badger complimented as Jesse lifted one of the crystals from the fresh batch the next morning. "This cankenstein is unreal! When we get back, I'm gonna burn that dollar bill suit - 'cause we're gonna make some _mad_ dough!"

"It's not right," Jesse set down the crystal and hung his head. The glass looked significantly different than when he had cooked it with Mr. White.

"What do you mean it's not right?" Badger stopped prancing, confused by his partner's antics and reaching to examine the shards himself.

"It's cloudy," Jesse clarified, smacking his friend's hand away in annoyance. "It's not supposed to be cloudy. That last time, it was glass."

"So what?" Badger scoffed. "Cloudy, not cloudy – it looks good enough to me."

"'Good enough'." Jesse quoted sarcastically, grabbing the entire batch and carting it outside where he promptly discarded of it on the grass.

"Yo!" Badger tried to stop him, now alarmed and panicking as he fell to his knees to try and collect the shards. "What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?! I totally would have smoked that!"

"It's not for you," Jesse shook his head, trudging back into the vehicle to start the next batch. "It's for our customers. They're gonna demand a certain standard. We'll just do it again until we get it right."

"W-what are you – what? Dude," Badger whined, duck footing back into the RV after failing to find the other half of the discarded batch in the grass. "Why can't you bring Charlie out here one day or somethin'? I want more half moons."

Jesse jerked back from the lab station at the mention of his girlfriend, cursing wildly and leaving Badger in charge for several minutes as he went to search for his cell phone. It was the second day that he was gone; meaning that if he didn't come home by the third night Charlie was going to assume the worst. Cooking was sort of like going camping; you started to suspect that something was up if the troopers didn't return after several days. He wanted to be responsible and let her know that the cook would take longer, because what sort of meth dealer didn't leave their significant other wondering whether or not they had been shot out in the desert during a cook?

Not Jesse.

He speed dialed her number, praying that she had received the afternoon shift today and was still available. Thankfully, the stars seemed to align for him and her tone greeted him within seconds.

"Jesse?"

"Baby," He closed his eyes, recognizing the feeling of relief that flooded through him every time he heard her voice. Even for a day it was hard to be away from her. He had only taken her on a couple of cooks before, but he generally hated putting her in that sort of danger, so he steered her clear. The simple fact that she knew what he was up to was already risky enough; if the D.E.A caught her and resorting to their cruel tactics he wasn't sure what they would get out of her. It wasn't a matter of trust, faith or loyalty – it was the simple fact that knowledge was power, and the D.E.A were brutal when they were interrogating.

"Listen," He continued, wanting to fill her in as fast as possible before his phone lost connection again. "I might be gone for another night, okay? I dunno how long this is gonna take."

There was ruffling on the other end, and then Charlie's soft muffled tone. "M'kay."

"Baby I'm sorry," He began to apologize profusely, knowing that this must have been one of her worse days. He hated leaving her on her weak days, but making product was the only way that he was really going to help her. The bills wouldn't pay themselves, and as much as Charlie liked to think she was raking in the dough as a waitress, she only supplied enough money for her heroin usage.

"It's okay," She soothed, knowing fully well that he was going to feel bad about leaving her all on her lonesome. "I'm fine – everything's fine here."

"Alright," Jesse rubbed his forehead in concern, digging a small trench with his foot. "If this ends up takin' any longer I'll call Skinny Pete up and have him come over there."

He briefly caught the sound of her sniffling on the other end. "Okay – I love you."

"Love you too."

He snapped the phone shut and ventured back into the RV, where Badger had busied himself reading the backs of all the powders organized in a row. The two got to work, moving quicker than they had with the last batch thanks to the newfound seriousness that had come along with tossing an entire batch of methamphetamine onto the New Mexico desert. Within hours, the next batch was finished, and at exactly four thirty seven PM Jesse lifted another crystal to eyeball it's purity. Badger stood behind him, nervously wringing his hands around his neck and rubbing the bags underneath his eyes.

"We can do better," Jesse eventually sighed, grabbing the dish by its handles and heading towards the door.

"Don't you fucking think about it!" Badger stopped him, growing furious at the prospect of losing another several grams of meth. "Three entire pounds of pseudo wasted! You know how long I had to spin that stupid sign?"

In a momentary fit of rage, the two struggled over the substance before it was flung behind them, and they abandoned picking up the pieces for throwing punches instead. Glassware fell left and right as Badger managed to helicopter Jesse around the inside of the RV, but lost his hold and was promptly shoved out of the vehicle once he hit the floor.

"Asshole," Jesse growled as he swung the RV door closed and began to start the vehicle with every intention of leaving Badger stranded in the desert. But when he looked back up at his friend outside, he was alarmed to find that Brandon was equipped with a large crossbow – one that he had brought along for 'hunting' purposes.

"Come back here, you bitch!" Jesse could hear Badger scream as he finally started the vehicle and roared onto the main dirt road. He could also hear the 'ping' noises of the crossbow shots echo on the sides of his RV. "I'm gonna mess you up!"

Jesse simply shifted gears and floored the engine until the RV was a safe distance from Badger, and he had reached the main highway. He pulled over for several minutes to secure the glassware in their boxes and collect the shards of meth that had fallen on the floor, also taking the time to call Badger a cab and leave Charlie a message that he was coming home soon. He couldn't have been happier to head back from such a god-awful cook session; even if he had some fairly good quality methamphetamine, it was still disappointing in comparison to the stuff that he and Mr. White had cooked. It was truly a pity that the older man wanted nothing more to do with him; apparently his first experience with peddling meth had been life threatening enough and he wanted nothing else to do with Jesse. So at this point, with no straws left and a meth lab packed into the back of his RV, Jesse was more than happy to head home into the arms of his very loving girlfriend.

**|:|**

"Charlie?" Jesse called out to what seemed to be an empty house. It wasn't usually like this when he got home – not unless she had taken anything while he was gone. He called her name out again, beginning to search each room for his tiny partner. Finding her was easy; she was passed out on the couch engulfed by blankets, Po tucked safely to her chest and an episode of 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S' playing softly on the television. He briefly wondered what she had resorted to her in spare time but didn't have to look very far, as the evidence sat right on the coffee table in front of him in the form of needles. Jesse knelt beside her sleeping form, making sure that she was safely on her side in case she vomited and placing a glass of water on the table. It was unlike Charlie to use heavier drugs when he wasn't home, but he supposed she had every right to after he had worried her like that.

Sighing, he decided to leave her be and went to pack up the lab, stacking all the glassware in his garage and covering it with a tarp to make sure that none of the suspicious looking beakers stuck out at any odd angles. Just as he was going to grab the last box, a familiar face opened the gate to his property.

"Yo!" Jesse spread his arms threateningly towards a very dazed looking Mr. White.

The two stared at each other silence for awhile, before Walter broke it with the last thing Jesse had been expecting to hear from him.

"Wanna cook?"


	6. Crazy Handful of Nothin'

**'****Crazy Handful of Nothin'**

Charlie was rudely awakened by the sound of clinking glass in the garage, and her still sluggish mind couldn't put two and two together to realize that perhaps those voices were Jesse and Walter instead of two nutbags going through her boyfriend's glassware. Unfortunately, her influenced mind was too doped up to even begin to climb off the couch, so instead she slumped off of it, falling to the floor with a harsh thud and crying out in pain. She slowly wrapped the blankets around her frame again and positioned herself underneath the coffee table, curling up and hoping that the two intruders wouldn't catch her while they were stealing all of Jesse's things. Soon she heard the rushing of feet - most likely responding to her fall - and began to break out in nervous sweat as the footsteps came closer and closer until she shut her eyes as tight as they would go, fearing the worst.

"Charlie!" A muffled voice was shaking her back to reality, and both men pulled out the girl from underneath the coffee table. Jesse kneeled down to the girl's height and grabbed her cheeks, trying to control the lolling of her head. "Can you hear me? Are you okay? What did you hit?"

"The f-floor." She slurred, words not able to connect themselves properly as she scratched at her skin.

"Jesus – heroin?" Mr. White took a step away from the scene, dually noting the needle that lay on the coffee table. "Do we need to call an ambulance?"

"No," Jesse grunted, pushing the table back into its proper place. Charlie began to shiver uncontrollably, something that came along with mixing drugs with an empty stomach. Walter looked on, unhelpful, as his former student took his other former student into his arms and placed her on the couch, wrapping her in more blankets and collecting her hair into a ponytail. He placed a pillow at the base of her spine to prevent her from rolling on her back and grabbing a bucket from behind the curtain.

"Why is she shivering?" Mr. White looked towards the younger boy in question.

"Cotton fever," Jesse explained, surveying the situation to double check that there was no risk. Charlie was still shivering, but had lapsed back into a drowsy state. "You see that cotton ball?"

Mr. White regarded the tiny drenched ball sitting inside the spoon wearily. "Yes?"

"You use that to filter the shit you put in the needle. That's reacting in her bloodstream – it's normal but it lasts for about half an hour. We just have to wait it out."

Walter regarded the small girl carefully, knowing that his family was waiting back at home for him but uneasy about leaving Charlie alone. He couldn't deny the fact that Jesse took care of her, but seeing a child in danger always struck him first as a parent, second as a human being. "Will she be alright?"

"She's fine, Mr. White," Jesse didn't take his eyes off her trembling form, understanding that he would sit all night if that was what it took to ensure her safety.

Walter sat for another hour with the two, making sure that Jesse knew exactly what he was doing before they parted ways and agreed to meet the day after tomorrow. There was a fair amount of debate about whether or not to bring Charlie – seeing as the activities she considered appropriate to do alone were particularly self destructive – but Jesse refused to allow her to come near any danger. Mr. White found himself scoffing whilst reminiscing on the drive home, wanting to turn around and berate Jesse for being so hypocritical. How was it that he could not see the danger Charlie was putting herself in every day? How was it that he was more concerned about her hanging around a meth lab for a day instead of shooting up at home alone?

"She doesn't always do it," Jesse had explained while they watched her twitching form. "I was gone for two days tryin' to cook your stuff with Badger…an' she gets nervous."

Although both students were cluster fucks and a half to manage, Walter found a soft spot inside him when he saw the tenderness that Jesse applied to situations with Charlie in them. Whether it was the panic attacks, bad trips or plain old crying sessions, the old man remembered Pinkman to be very caring of Charlie. In turn, he also had multiple memories of Charlie being capable of handling her boyfriend's fits of rage in the classroom. One particular incident flashed back to him: _it was a Friday morning second period Chemistry class, and both Macey and Pinkman were present. Mr. White had begun to hand out the test marks, and although both teens flunked badly, Jesse reacted in a different way than what was to be expected. Storming out of the room, he had flung the door open on the way out and was heard rumbling through the hallways, punching lockers left and right. Charlie got up moments later, excusing herself and rushing out the doorway after him. Mr. White simply watched the ordeal with tired eyes, snapping for his students to sit back down in their seats and to let the emotional teens in the hallway figure it out amongst themselves. He remembered hearing yelling for several minutes – Charlie's tone reaching a level he had never heard before – and finally, the banging stopped. There was no more rattling of metal or angry shouts, and the two stepped back into the classroom within five minutes. The only telltale sign of their activities was the dark red lipstick smeared over Jesse's mouth, the identical shade to the one that Charlie was reapplying. _

Back then, Walter would have sighed and chastised the two for wasting class time. Now he didn't know what he would have said. It was remarkable how two completely out of control people could control each other so easily. They held each other together like planks on a bridge; every piece was essential or the whole thing could come crashing down.

**|:|**

There was nowhere else that Jesse would have rather been in that very moment than spooning Charlie on their mattress, happily dozing off on one of their free days. It was rare; Mr. White had work so Jesse didn't need to cook, Charlie hadn't been called in for any shifts, and no one had been knocking at their front door asking about their religious beliefs. It was absolute bliss to be able to lie in bed and not have any responsibilities for a day. Charlie was still fast asleep – she had gotten fairly good at dozing the days away when it was possible and Jesse was happy to see her so peaceful. Following her lead, he tightened his hold on her and promptly dozed off again.

**|:|**

The shrill wail of a cell phone alarm pierced the air, and Charlie groaned unhappily. _Los Pollos _needed her for the full day today, so she needed to be up and at 'em as soon as possible. Jesse was leaving around ten o'clock with Mr. White, but had agreed to drop her off before meeting up with their old professor. Charlie dressed quickly and they made it out of the driveway in record time.

"I'm coming with you tonight," Charlie retied her converse against the dashboard of the Monte Carlo once they pulled into the restaurant chain, and Jesse shot her an uncertain look until she clarified. "When you go slinging."

"Baby," Jesse started, shaking his head in protest.

"Come on! We just spend the entire day in bed, and I haven't had any glass in awhile." She whined, knowing fully well that 'awhile' in their standards meant merely a week.

Jesse sighed, drooping his head slightly. He still felt very uneasy about involving her in business, but it wasn't unusual for more than two people to show up at a deal. Several times an entourage was a good idea to bring along, whether it was for protection or to ward off suspicion. Nevertheless Charlie was a 100-pound female with very little going for her besides the fact that she could out smoke anybody any day.

"You know it could be dangerous," Jesse repeated what he said to her every time she hinted at coming with him on these round trips. She had gone several times before, and enjoyed seeing all the different satisfied customers who would sometimes hand out freebies to their friendly neighbourhood dealers. After a day in bed she was more than happy to join her boyfriend on his night out, hoping to catch some free hits along the way.

"I know," She replied, kissing him goodbye and bouncing into the restaurant. Jesse watched her go with a faraway smile, eventually pulling the car out of the parking lot and roaring back home to meet Mr. White.

The day passed by quickly, and soon Charlie found herself on the 88 Bus headed back to the house at around five fifteen PM, yawning all the way. It had been a very uneventful and boring day at _Pollos_. Although customers were ever so plentiful, Charlie felt like she was looking at the same people every day; the same mother with two, three, four kids all whining at the same times and asking for refills of their cokes, the overweight truckers stopping in for takeout, the young teenagers coming in for fizzy drinks. Everything was the same.

She found Jesse waiting for her at the house when she got back, fully stashed and ready to go. Charlie changed into her most trusty jeans, deciding to keep her converse and exchanging her oversized sweater for several jumpers and a leather jacket. Protesting the temperature of her hands, Jesse shoved her paws into a pair of fingerless gloves and they were out the door. The first stop was the Crystal Palace, where frequent residents of the crosstown motel were more than happy to see Jesse. The jittery customers paid little attention to the ever-so-tiny Charlie, tucked into Jesse's side and staring up at them with wide, curious eyes. This pattern repeated when Jesse met up with several more customers in a house downtown, except this time they offered both partners hits off of the pipe. Charlie gladly accepted, keeping up with her boyfriend beside her. The two parted ways with the crowd minutes later after selling several more grams. Garcia's café was next, where Jesse's friend Mateo showed off his new grills and the four Latino males took a liking to their dealer's small tag-along.

"Shit son," Sebastian – one of Jesse's other customers present at the scene – smiled down at Charlie. "Where'd you find her?"

"High school," Jesse answered truthfully, earning a chorus of laughs. The boys changed the subject quickly, exchanging not only crystal but the word on the street.

"There's a new guy in town," Mateo grimaced. "Tuco Salamanca. Movin' product fast."

"Oh yeah?" Jesse frowned at the new information, unsure of what to think. A new distributor meant new business, and although it was good to have someone back in charge again this also meant that he and Mr. White needed to be careful.

"Yeah," One of the bigger boys leaning on the hood next to Sebastian pulled out a cigarette, motioning to Charlie for a lighter. "Grade A badass, from what we hear."

"Great," Jesse sighed, picturing a large intimidating tattooed man. The two left the gang of boys minutes later with even more dirty cash and the valuable information they had gathered. At the 'Dog House', the exchange was quick and involved only one quiet man in a suit. Their last deal was at the Laundromat with a small woman dumping her dirty clothes into one of the machines. Charlie waited out by the car, nervous about security cameras and craving a cigarette. Overall the evening had gone well; the total cash amounted to twenty-six hundred and Charlie had made some new friends.

The next day, however, would be terrible.

Jesse was out cooking with Mr. White again – who was still angry about the fact that money wasn't coming in as fast as he had expected and that Jesse didn't have an 'in' with the new distributor. No matter which way Jesse tried to explain it, Mr. white didn't seem to understand that he couldn't just walk up to an original, old-school gangster and start negotiating deals. It didn't work that way – he needed someone who had a personal connection or a link up to Tuco. He risked the chance of getting seriously harmed or having his street cred ruined if he got off on the wrong foot with this guy. The day hadn't been much better for Charlie, who was dealing with several families that required multiple servings of fries and someone who had vomited in the women's bathroom. Granted, her problems were nowhere near the gravity that Jesse was dealing with, but when they both met back at home that day each partner was sick and tired of their 'work life'.

"Mr. White has cancer," Jesse sighed that night as they enjoyed their final cigarettes of the day. "He's stage 3A."

Charlie tilted her head up to look at him, worry spreading over her features. "Is that why he's cooking?"

Jesse nodded, obviously disturbed and trying to alleviate past memories of his poor aunt, who had disappeared down the same medical path. Sensing this, his girlfriend dropped a kiss on his chest and began to trace his tattoo with soothing fingers. He spoke again in between drags of his cigarette.

"I'm goin' to see someone dangerous tomorrow," He began, explaining how Skinny Pete had responded to his phone calls and assured him that he had personal connections with Tuco. "To see if I can work out a deal or somethin'."

Charlie was quiet for a bit, squinting up at the ceiling and already feeling her stomach tying itself in knots for him. "Just be careful."

**|:|**

Locker number 14 was vibrating. Unbeknownst to Charlie or any of the other employees that day, something terrible was awaiting on the other end of the line. She had been waiting tables when one of her coworkers, Susan, had let her know that something was up.

"Your phone is goin' crazy back there," She tapped the small girl on the shoulder to let her know.

Charlie frowned, excusing herself to use the washroom and making sure that her friend held her tables. Yanking her locker open, she dug through the baggy contents before reaching the still vibrating cellular device. Susan had been right – there were numerous missed messages and calls, all from Jesse's phone. She dialed him, starting to grow anxious.

"Charlie!" Skinny Pete's raspy tone greeted her, and she immediately bombarded him with questions. "Calm down, doll – we've got a problem here."

"What happened?" Charlie was already pulling herself out of the _Los Pollos _sweater. She had dealt with one of their 'problems' before; a rival dealer had organized for his thugs to jump Jesse, resulting in him being beaten to a pulp and left to bleed out on the streets. Skinny Pete had found him and thankfully dragged him off to a hospital, but it had been a traumatic experience for everyone involved.

"Negotiations went bad," Pete explained, hearing distant scuffling on the other end of the line. "We're at UNM."

"Okay – oh my god," Charlie's breathing picked up as she grabbed the rest of her belongings and knocked a frantic hand on Mr. Fring's office door. He opened it immediately, alarmed at her ragged appearance. "Mr. Fring, I need to leave! I've got an emergency – my boyfriend's in the hospital, a-and -"

Gus nodded towards the frantic woman, offering to drive her to the hospital where her partner resided. She accepted, still on the phone with her counterpart. Gus cast her several sideways glances while driving, taking in her track marks and tattoos. As far as he was concerned, whatever she did in her personal life didn't affect her job performance – she was off the hook for that – but he knew from his person experiences with drugs to never trust a junkie. Upon pulling up to the University of New Mexico Hospital emergency wing, Charlie hopped out of the car and thanked him profusely, still on the phone with Pete who had given her the room number and condition of her boyfriend. Mr. Fring nodded at the grateful girl, watching her disappear into the large building. It was clear that both she and her boyfriend were dealing with concerning issues.

"Pinkman." Gus remarked as he sped out of the hospital parking lot.

Elsewhere, Charlie was racing through the lobby of the hospital, still on the phone and struggling to focus on Pete trying to calm her down and give her directions at the same time. She managed to make it to a help desk, where they directed her towards the urgent care ward and she rushed into the correct room, finding Jesse asleep in a neck brace and Skinny sitting by the bed.

"Jesus Christ," She breathed, ignoring Pete and going to lean over her bloodied-up boyfriend. "What happened?"

"Tuco beat him bad," Pete muttered, clearly "I didn't want nothin' like this to happen – I swear! I thought he was a cool guy!"

"It's not your fault," Charlie murmured, looking towards her boyfriend's vital signs and noting that his blood pressure was low. "Old schoolers are nuts."

"Yeah."

The two slept in the hospital room that night, managing to convince the nurses that they were family and holding up the story that he had 'falling down a flight of stairs'. Nobody was buying it, but they sure as hell weren't going to question the ragtag bunch of kids in the back room who were paying their bills up front in cash. Perhaps the staff acknowledged that they had enough problems as it was. In fact, their stay proved to yield even more questionable visitors when Jesse's cell phone went off the next morning.

"Yeah man," Skinny Pete answered the call, watching as Charlie rose from her spot on the floor to check Jesse again. "What up?"

_"__Who is this?"_ Charlie recognized Walter's tone from the other end of the line. _"I was dialing Jesse Pinkman."_

"Hey man," Pete tried to explain, frowning as Charlie's breathing picked up and she plopped herself down in the corner. "Jesse's out."

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. _"Where is he, then?" _

Pete sighed before giving Walter the bad news, as well as the room number in the hospital they were staying at. As he hung up the phone, he locked eyes with a panicked Charlie still sitting in the corner. She had wrapped herself further in Jesse's sweater, now rocking back and forth as if it would sooth her. She made no changes to her movements, even when Mr. White stepped into the room.

"You the guy?" Pete looked up at him.

"I'm the guy," The chemistry teacher confirmed, looking between the three rejects of society. His gaze briefly rested on Charlie, obviously refusing to connect to reality, and then continued on to Jesse. "How is he?"

"Got some busted ribs'n like that," Again, Pete's face was the epitome of guilt. "Got messed up pretty good…I was all like: 'Damn, Tuco – chill ese!' I don't know what got into him, seriously."

Walter leaned over to inspect his former student more closely. He couldn't stop the feeling of guilt either, knowing that it had been his fault for pushing the kid into selling to a hardcore thug and basically walking into a million dollar operation without any backup. No wonder Salamanca had felt threatened; their meth was the current purest on the market.

"He's out, man." Pete shook his head towards his unconscious friend. "They got him doped up big time."

There was a pregnant pause as Walter glanced behind him, observing Charlie's shaking mass after what her friend had said. He leaned against the vent in the room, taking in the current situation and trying not to fall over in stress. It was enough keeping the secret of cooking methamphetamine from his family, but to have his partner cooped up in the hospital with questions pouring in from all sides was another load on his back.

"So you're the cook, huh?" The thin man continued, respect shining in his eyes. "Yo – I didn't catch your name."

"Tell me about this Tuco," Mr. White ignored Skinny's question and sat in a dazed state. "Tell me everything about him."


	7. A No-Rough-Stuff-Type Deal

**'****A No-Rough-Stuff-Type Deal'**

After very little debate, Charlie and Jesse decided to sell his Aunt's former home. It wasn't that they didn't like the area; they felt perfectly comfortable exactly where they were. It was simply the fact that after two bodies had been disintegrated on the property, certain dark thoughts became associated with the furniture and the walls and the _staircase _so much so that Jesse couldn't stand to even look at the hole in his ceiling anymore. So, he made the decision to call a realtor and organize pricing, which meant that he and Charlie had to relocate to the RV every time some random newcomers with nothing better to do on a Saturday decided to check out their broken down home. This particular afternoon it was a lovely African American couple that came to see the condition of the building, clearly unimpressed and uncertain about the way Beth Bailey – the house's realtor – was trying to sell them on it. Unbeknownst to how badly their house was doing in the real estate department, Charlie and Jesse were otherwise occupied in the RV parked in the driveway.

The twenty three year old had situated herself on his face, gripping the makeshift bedding (they had been forced to drag half of their essentials into the larger vehicle) as the boy below ate her out. It was difficult to perform any sort of sexual task when his ribs were bandaged, so they had had to modify some of their positions to best fit the current situation. Not that either party was complaining at this point; even if Jesse hadn't taken a solid breath in over forty seconds, he figured that if he had to die a happy man, in between Charlie's legs was the way to go. Choruses of moans and foul language spilled from her lips as she gripped his hair, hissing when he unwrapped one of his roaming hands from her waist to slip two fingers inside of her.

"Shit," She groaned, eyes drooping shut with sickening pleasure as he kept up the pace that drove her insane. The familiar feeling – similar to one of a sneeze building up – made itself present in Charlie's abdomen. Spouting as many encouraging words as she could manage and imploring for her boyfriend to keep going, she plummeted towards the edge of the metaphorical 'cliff' faster and faster. And intense pulsing began, almost thrumming harder and harder until finally something snapped when he bit down slightly, and she released.

"JESSE!" The girl above him tensed, spine curving as she rode out the waves of bliss he had provided her with.

Just outside, Walter knocked on the RV door, pretending that he hadn't just heard what was probably a woman screaming out in orgasm and calling Jesse's name.

"Yo!" Jesse shifted a still-suffering-from-aftershock Charlie away from his mouth. "It's by appointment only!"

Walter squared himself and entered moments later, slamming the door shut behind him. When he lifted the tarp, he found his two former students scrambling to cover themselves whilst staring up at their – now bald – intruder incredulously.

"How ya feelin'?" Walter ignored their nude state and leaned over to check on Jesse.

"'Bout as good as you look." He wiped remnants of Charlie's mess off of his cheek, groaning in pain as he tried to shift his position. "Jeez, you look like Lex Luther."

"Listen," He looked away as Charlie pulled on Jesse's t-shirt. "I visited you in the hospital, but you were asleep."

"Yeah," Jesse confirmed. "Skinny Pete said you wanted Tuco's address. Acting like you were all out for blood. You are _alive_, so obviously you wised up."

"No," Walt objected, beginning to inspect the general cleanliness of the van. "I did go see him."

"Bullshit," A heavily biased Jesse spat.

"Are you selling your house?" Mr. White changed the subject briefly, turning back towards the two who were still strewn across the mattress.

"I got two dudes that turned into raspberry slushie and flushed down my toilet," Jesse complained, pointing towards the general direction of his home. "I can't even take a proper dump in there. The whole damn house has got to be haunted by now."

Jesse seemed to realize that Walter had changed the subject, and reverted it back to the topic at hand. "You didn't actually go see Tuco?"

"Here," Mr. White tossed the kid a rectangular yellow bag. "That is seventeen-five; your half of the thirty-five-thousand. Plus there's an extra fifteen in there. It's all yours; you've earned it."

Charlie stared at the cash in awe as Jesse looked up at Mr. White uncertainly. "You got this money from Tuco." He stated in disbelief.

"Yeah."

"So Tuco gave you this," Jesse motioned to the cash. "Is what you're saying?"

"Well," Mr. White nodded slightly. "We made a deal."

"You made a deal?!" Jesse's voice raised and he grunted in pain as he struggled to stand. Charlie's hands flew to help in, and he grasped on to her small frame for support before leaning onto the RV's counter.

"That's right," Walter confirmed, spreading his arms as if he hadn't a clue in the world why Jesse would have been upset at that fact. Although it was a simple matter of his pride being ruined, Jesse still had doubts about doing business with the older gangster.

"Why would you make a deal with that scumbag?!" Jesse was yelling now, making Charlie flinch in fear. He noticed, taking a moment to lower his tone and hand her his shirt. "You see what he did to me?!"

"Because I think that we can do business together," Walter's voice was steady as he answered Jesse's first question, a parental tone taking over. "We came to an understanding."

"No way, man!" Jesse exclaimed, furiously waving his cash around. "Okay? No understanding."

"Take a look at the money in your hand," Mr. White pointed at the stacks, growing frustrated at the kid's incompetence. "Now just imagine making that every week. That's right – two pounds a week."

"Without even talking to me, you told this insane ass-clown dead-eyed killer that we would give him two pounds a week?!"

"We'll just scale up our operation," Walter suggested, spreading his hands in a picture of innocence. "We'll add a few more hours -"

"Don't talk to me about hours!" Jesse exclaimed, pointing at Charlie furiously as if to silently remind Walter about what this was doing to her. Even though they stayed together no matter how many days they were separated, his operations were taking serious tolls on her anxiety. "What about pseudo, man? How are we gonna get that?! You think the meth fairy is just gonna bring it to us? It takes me a week to get this stuff. I'm drivin' all the way to Las Cruces. 200 miles each way to meet up with my smurfs -"

"Smurfs?" Mr. White made a face, never able to understand Jesse's slang.

"Dudes who go to the drugstores and get a couple boxes at a time and then sell them to me," Jesse clarified. "And that's maybe only good for, like, maybe a half-pound worth. See; that's the bottleneck in your brilliant business plan."

"All right," Mr. White conceded, growing tired of hearing the mistakes that he had made rubbed in his face.

"Of course you would have known that if you would have just asked me." Jesse stormed past him to grab his sweater, zipping himself into it and huffing angrily.

"Let's just cook with what we have, and we'll worry about getting more pseudo later." Mr. White suggested, ironing out the rest of the details and preparing to leave. At the last minute, he turned to Charlie. Jesse regarded him suspiciously as he questioned the girl's health.

"Feeling okay?" The bald man asked her. She nodded vigorously, wide-eyed and curled into a small ball. Convinced, he stepped out of the RV and into the October air, contemplating how the hell he was going to explain to Tuco why he didn't have the two pounds he promised.

**|:|**

"Wasn't bad enough," Jesse ranted the next day once he and Walter had met back at the house. A 4 pounds a week deal with Tuco sounded wonderful at first, but Walter failed to factor in how difficult it was to purchase key ingredients, one of which was pseudo. "We're talkin' 200-300 boxes of sinus pills. There ain't that many smurfs in the world."

"We're not going to need pseudo ephedrine," Mr. White explained, writing down the list of ingredients. "We're going to make phenylacetone in a tube furnace, then we're gonna use reductive amination to yield methamphetamine; 4 pounds."

"So no pseudo?" Jesse seemed relieved upon the confirmation that no pseudo would be required. "So you do have a plan! Yeah, Mr. White! Yeah, science! Okay."

His older counterpart sighed, ripping the yellow note off and handing it to Jesse. The long list of chemicals and various substances that would be crucial to their success in cooking seemed to go on and on, confusing Jesse just by sparing a glance at them.

"What's this?" He scrunched up his nose, quoting from the scribbles and having difficulty pronouncing the names. "One autotransformer, hy-hydrous methyl-methylamine? Two thirty-five M&M tube furnaces -"

"That's MM: millimeter," Mr. White corrected, letting his thoughts take him away. "One 70-millimeter would be fine, but they're hard to come by, so…"

"'Forty grams thorium nitrate'?!" Jesse exclaimed, unable to comprehend the task before him. "Yo, Mr. White – I can't even pronounce half this shit. You know what? Count me out – I'm leavin' town. I'm movin' to, like, Oregon or something -"

Mr. White hopped up, grabbing at the younger boy to stop him from moving out of the room. "Jesse, Jesse! Listen to me." He gripped the kid by his shoulders, leaning down to his level. "Today is the first day of the rest of your life."

They shared a weird moment of silence, and Jesse eyed him uncertainly. "What are you doing?"

"This is the first day of the rest of your life," Mr. White tried again to no avail. "But what kind of life will it be? Will it be a life of fear? Of: 'Oh, no, no, no, 'I can't do this'? Of never once believing in yourself?"

"I don't know..." Jesse looked up at the man, lack of understanding reflecting in his eyes.

"Listen," Mr. White sighed, pointing to the list on the table. "These things? We _need _them. And only you can get them for us."

Suddenly Charlie danced into the room with her headphones blasting, obviously fully prepared to begin cooking something that one of Jesse's friends would wolf down the next day. This would have been perfectly fine with the other occupants of the household standing her kitchen, if not for the fact that she was completely naked. She screeched as she caught sight of the two bewildered men, ducking behind the counter and removing her headphones, which were still blasting rap music. Jesse was more used to these sorts of antics; she had a bad habit of cooking naked sometimes – something about it being 'liberating' – but for Mr. White, this entire display of strange behavior must have been bewildering.

"I am _so_ sorry," She began to apologize, peeking out from behind the island. "I thought I was alone – you said Tuco -"

"That's alright, Charlie." Mr. White shook his hand at her, not bothering to listen to any other excuses as he turned on his heel and left the house. He'd had enough of crazy for one day.

**|:|**

Charlie came home from work the next day to find Mr. White and Jesse unscrewing etch-a-sketches in her kitchen. After several hours of shopping and thousands of dollars blown on the supplies Mr. White had tasked him to find, Jesse had found everything except the one key ingredient they needed; methylamine. So the boys needed to rob from the chemical handling station just South of Albuquerque, which meant devising a plan as to how to get in and out quickly and quietly that night. Charlie had no idea what they were up to, but apparently etch-a-sketches were the key to their solution.

"Do you guys want grilled cheese?" Her tone was light and airy, and Mr. White turned to her incredulously. It amazed him to see how easily she adapted to questionable situations sometimes; it was remarkable that she hadn't left Jesse after everything that this boy put himself through.

"Sure," He nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."

Charlie simply smiled and went to gather the ingredients, turning the stovetop on. The lined the pan with oil, then placed four slices of bread and some cheese on the countertop. Cutting the sandwiches into triangles, she hummed quietly and put away the package of bread.

"What's this stuff called again?" Jesse asked as Charlie started to grill the food.

"Thermite."

"And that'll cut through a lock?" Jesse raised a brow. "'Cause this is supposed to be one big ass lock."

"In World War II," Walter began to explain, catching the attention of Charlie while she waited for the sandwiches to toast on one side. "The Germans had an artillery piece. It was the biggest in the world; called the Gustav Gun, and it weighed a thousand tons. And the Gustav was capable of firing a 7-ton shell and hitting a target accurately 23 miles away. I mean, you could drop bombs on it every day for a month without ever disabling it. But you drop a commando - one man with just a bag of this – and he could melt right through four inches of solid steel and destroy that gun forever. So yes," Mr. White smiled. "I think it will cut through any lock we're likely to find."

Charlie flipped the two sandwiches, setting them on separate plates and grabbing three glasses of water. She said nothing, setting the plates in front of them and filling their cups. She then filled her own, laid a kiss on Jesse's forehead, and began to gather the empty etch-a-sketches. Walter watched her walk out of the kitchen with the discarded toys, hearing the clang of a recycling bin shutting closed moments later.

"Is she always like that?" He was still confused about the girl's strange behavior.

"Like what?" Jesse was chomping down on his sandwich, oblivious to the point Walter was trying to make.

Mr. White shot him a look before shaking his head, assuming that perhaps Charlie had been diagnosed with some sort of bipolar disorder or something similar. "Never mind."

**|:|**

Later in the evening, after they had returned from the chemical handling plant with the full barrel of methylamine, both Walter and Jesse nearly collapsed when they got inside the house. The barrel – left in the trunk of the Monte Carlo in case they needed to make a quick getaway – had taken its toll on the two, who were clearly no poster boys for physical fitness. Jesse had a good amount of stamina, but in terms of health Mr. White was in no position to go jogging or do heavy lifting any time soon. So Charlie, concerned about the toll he had placed on his body that evening, made him a cup of tea and offered to drive him home. Again, he was dumbfounded by the amount of patience she must have had for this sort of lifestyle. Living close to or being involved with a drug dealer was never going to be easy, and she had already attached herself to one.

"No," He politely declined her offer and finished his tea. "I'll get home fine, thank you Charlie. I'll see you soon, Jesse."

The pair watched him go, frowning as they heard the distinct sound of familiar coughing before his car engine started. Jesse's Aunt had the same rough cough when she was still alive, occasionally spitting up blood and vomiting due to the chemotherapy. Those had been hard times for an already disturbed Jesse, who didn't exactly know what to make of his aunt's disease until she was already gone.

"We gotta cook tomorrow," Jesse sat on the edge of their mattress and hung his head, lighting a cigarette. He watched Charlie brush her teeth and change both her naval jewelry, a process that she struggled with and required his assistance. She held out the first set of beads for him to hold and instructed for him to hold the bottom part of her upper jewelry, ignoring his original statement until both her upper and reverse naval had been changed. The bottom now held a long dangly piece, one that shifted around every time she moved.

"You guys have to make a lot, don't you?" She stopped in front of her boyfriend, who had grown distracted by the sparkling appendage and had begun to play with it.

"Yeah," He answered halfheartedly, taking a drag of his cigarette and pulling Charlie's hips towards him so that he could lay a kiss between them. "We do."

**|:|**

"The RV won't start, baby. We're cookin' in the basement." Jesse and Walt passed Charlie in the driveway the next morning, each carrying boxes of equipment with them.

"Just be careful." She smiled, kissing him once on the lips and climbing into their red car. Again, Walter turned to Jesse in disbelief once she had roared off down the street in the Monte Carlo.

"How does she do that?!"

"Do what?" Jesse grimaced, shoving open the door of the basement and practically tripping down the stairs.

"Her nonchalance is remarkable," Mr. White clarified, whipping some sweat off of his brow that had worked up after trying to start the RV. "I don't know how she hasn't called the police on you yet."

Jesse shrugged, a smile lighting up his face as he thought of the one person that would always stay by his side no matter what. "Charlie's cool."

"She's 'cool'?" Mr. White quoted as they traveled upstairs to get more boxes, setting up the lab downstairs in between journeys. "What if one day she snaps and decides to dial up the D.E.A? She could blow this whole operation!"

"What are you saying?" Jesse's nose scrunched up as his brain started to piece what Walter was saying together.

"All I'm saying is that she has a lot of information," The chemistry teacher struggled with a heavier box, which Jesse took off his hands and swapped with a lighter load. "There's no telling what she might do."

"Mr. White," Jesse set down the box he was carrying, turning to face the older man once they reached the basement again "I've known that girl for ten years now, 'kay? She's everything to me. She's all I have – she's what makes me happy and I can't survive without her."

There was a beat of silence.

"Now let me tell you something about Charlie; Charlie doesn't have anything or anyone else left. You know what happened to her – you remember her parents and you know what she does. She's not gonna rat us out because this is the only thing she has left; _I'm_ the only thing she has left. She's not gonna rat us out because she's not a shitty person and she knows value when she sees it. She's not gonna rat us out because she loves me and she knows that smokin' this whole Op would make our lives total shit storms. Criminals know the difference between right and easy, Mr. White – but out of all of us, Charlie knows it best. 'Cause she's gotta make that choice every day."

Walter simply stood and stared at his former student, unsure of whether or not the feeling flooding through him was relief or the desire to strangle Pinkman in anger. It was a plus side that the kid realized what Charlie was feeling, but to put her through what Walter was so desperately trying to hide from his wife? The choice of either ruining everything that he had built or going to the police? It was despicable for him to see. Then again, Mr. White was in no position to dictate between what was 'right' and what was 'easy' – he _had_, after all, started a meth lab.

**|:|**

"Yo – you ain't seein' the basement, bitch! You got that?! Is that stickin' in? All of you! House is NOT for sale! GET THE HELL OUT!"

Charlie hurried inside her house upon hearing her boyfriend's furious words, encountering a rush of terrified potential customers on her way inside. Beth was stumbling behind them, making profuse apologies and taking all of her flyers with her. This was a career-changing incident; that was for damn sure. She would either have to start selling in another continent or change her name, because no one was going to be inclined to buy from her again. Not that Charlie was angry about it at all – Beth was a sneaky, manipulative salesman that really pressured buyers and would lie right through her pearly whites.

So when the frantic woman passed her in the hallway, she merely smiled sarcastically. "Sorry it didn't work out."

"You!" Beth was furious, hair coming out of its curls and eyes wide. "You useless junkies – the both of you! Always fornicating during my open houses a-a-and leaving cigarette butts everywhere!"

"Hey!" Jesse came up behind his girlfriend and wrapped an arm around her, glaring at the woman dressed in yellow. "What part of 'get out' don't you understand?"

With one last 'humph' and a twirl on her heel, the woman stomped out of their house and slammed the door behind her. Once she had gone, a satisfied Jesse turned to his girlfriend; gas mask perched on the top of his head.

"You're home early."

**|:|**

Charlie opened the front door to the house, sighing and lighting a cigarette. Her workday had been average, but she had been traumatized at lunch when a bigger looking man had begun to yell at his wife. _Pollos _had been forced to fill out an incident report when he had ripped his tray table in two, causing the remnants of their unfinished lunch to splatter everywhere. Charlie had spent an hour on her hands and knees mopping everything up while the other employees held the husband back and ran the restaurant on their own. Her legs had just begun to feel hints of soreness, and she was sure that by tomorrow her knees would be bruised.

Out of nowhere, just as she was setting down her coat, she was engulfed by a large familiar mass and held tight. Recognizing her boyfriend but startled by his actions, she let out a squeak and clutched the back of his beanie-covered head.

"Jesse?" Her other hand wrapped itself around his shoulders, vaguely being able to detect his trembling. "What happened?"

At first Jesse didn't respond, and Charlie didn't push it. They swayed slightly on the spot, embracing each other for all that it was worth. Charlie knew that he was in shock; she had seen him do this multiple times before when something dangerous threatened to shatter the lifestyle he had built for himself. His heavy breathing paired with whimpers was a dead giveaway that something must have happened with Tuco. She figured that after traumatic experiences, it was normal for him to clutch whatever was most important to him and acknowledge it for all that it was worth. So Charlie merely slid his hat off, running her fingers through his hair and pressing kisses to the side of his head as if to remind him that she was still there; that she would always be there. After five minutes, she had finished her cigarette and Jesse had begun to loosen his grip.

"H-he killed a guy," His blue eyes were shining with unshed tears as he pulled back and clarified. "Tuco beat a guy to death."


End file.
